King of Erebor – Poison
by Sky Venom
Summary: "Maybe you should stop hiding behind your mother's skirts." Thorin's teasing words echoed in the young king's ears for a long time. What happens when said mother gets ill? How far will Fíli go to save her? Does he really need her help to rule in the Lonely Mountain? Third piece of the King of Erebor stories, but can be read alone.
1. Sick

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Hobbit.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi everyone!

I'm back with the third installment of King of Erebor. Although it's a part of the series, give it a chance if you haven't read the prequels! I'll give every information needed, but you can find a short summary of what happened so far below. I hope you'll like it!

SV

* * *

 **King of Erebor – Poison**

 **Sick**

Fíli said goodbye to Nori with a smirk. The other dwarf took a turn that was leading away from his own home, and Fíli had no doubt where he went in such a hurry.

Nori was lucky enough to find love thanks to the old tradition that was revived this year in Erebor. A long time ago every spring, interested dwarrowdams went on a journey to find their One. Based on this idea, Dís, Fíli's mother, decided to organize an event, called the Spring Tour of Love with the help of Dáin's wife, Vera. They invited a group of dwarrowdams from the Iron Hills to settle down and look for a husband in Erebor. Dís' idea was to create a safe and comfortable environment, where everyone can focus on their heart's desire, but Nori managed to circumvent the system and had a secret affair for months. Many would wonder how he tricked young and pretty Alin into seeing him, but he was just as smitten as the lass, despite having difficulties with recognizing his feelings.

In the end, their secret relationship got revealed in front of a few people. Nori, in a misguided attempt to protect her from his unsavory contacts and shady past, tried to break up with her, but with a little intervention, they made up and were now on the way to 'slowly let their friends know about their _acquaintance'_.

Fíli suspected that Nori also had commitment issues, since he'd rarely stayed in one place for a long time before the Quest. Nori wasn't alone with this problem: taking back the Lonely Mountain was a dream come true, but this new life was very different from their old one. Living constantly underground made Fíli restless, and as King under the Mountain, he had to face new challenges daily. He'd just said goodbye to the elves of Lórien, and managed to imprison a couple of dangerous criminals, so he decided to take a few days off, and went on a hunting trip.

His first choice for company would have been his little brother, but Kíli was still missing. Fortunately, Nori proved to be a great companion, just as reckless as Kíli, but more adept at getting himself out of trouble. Fíli could fully relax and rewind, and they talked a lot. He found these conversations trying at first, because Nori had a roundabout way to bring up serious topics, disguised as merely theoretical or meaningless, but after a while, he learned to read between the lines and he realized that Nori was always saying a lot. Perhaps he was even more of an asset for a king than Fíli had previously thought.

Before returning to his own chambers, he knocked on his mother's door first. She greeted him with a smothering hug, and a less enthusiastic comment:

"Mahal, Fee, were you on a hunting trip or on a boozing trip?"

Fíli grinned. "We spent the night in Dale," he answered happily, not willing to share the details. "But I'm back now. Is your spellstone finished?"

"Yes," she said. "I'll get it for you, but first, take a bath, then come over."

After the small detour, Fíli finally arrived at his study. He nodded to Ronen, his daytime bodyguard, who was guarding the royal quarters in his absence. His stony face revealed no emotion now. They had an argument before Fíli left: Ronen was very dutiful and loyal, and he didn't approve of Fíli going out without protection. Fortunately, he wouldn't deny explicit orders, so Fíli could get away, and no one entered his rooms in the last few days.

Half an hour later, he was soaking in the bathtub, trying to untangle his messy hair – he wasn't surprised that the good folks of Dale didn't recognize him in this state!

After that, he checked his correspondence to see if there was any news of Kíli.

His little brother had left months ago, and Fíli promised his worrying mother to go and take a protective spellstone after him, if he didn't come back until the Lórien elves' departure. He offered to leave immediately, but Dís was aware of her son's need for some free time, so they agreed to wait until after the hunting trip.

With a few unkind Khuzdul words, he went to his wardrobe to pack up a new bag, before unpacking what he brought home from the hunting trip. Dwalin used to say that a sensible dwarf always had one fully packed bag, in case he had to leave without delay.

His mind was already planning a route for the upcoming search.

Kíli went off on a quest of his own, to find out if his budding romance with that she-elf was more than a mere crush. Fíli was torn: he truly wanted his little brother to find happiness, and he would support him, whoever he chooses, yet… it would be easier for everyone if his quest failed.

Fortunately, Kíli had no idea where to find her. After the battle, Tauriel returned to Mirkwood, Fíli knew that much. Kíli didn't, since he was delirious with fever at that time, but the obvious choice would be to start there. Earlier, Fíli had a fleeting thought to write to Thranduil about this matter in their monthly correspondence, but he decided against it. The Elvenking made no mention of his brother, and Fíli didn't want to complicate the tentative balance between the two realms. A quick personal visit without notification would reveal more. If no one heard of either Kíli or Tauriel, then he had no idea where to go next.

He stuffed a bag with clothes and he was hiding weapons in the fabric, when someone tore open the door to his study.

"Fíli!" he heard a female voice. "King!"

He was intrigued – he wasn't used to having dwarrowdams break into his room in such a hurry. He especially wouldn't assume such a thing about this particular dwarrowdam: his mother's cartographer, who was clever enough to find a passable way across Middle Earth during the winter to bring Dís here, thus earning her trust. She was staying in Erebor since then, quickly impressing Fíli with both her knowledge and her level-headed personality lately. She also had a talent to unsettle him without causing harm. He wondered what could upset her so.

"Yes?"

He walked out to meet her. They were sort-of-friends, but Fíli found himself in a really awkward situation, because he still didn't know her name, but asking now would be rather embarrassing.

The dwarrowdam was out of breath, her face stricken with panic.

"You mother is sick!"

Fíli shook his head.

"I've just talked to her, and she was fine."

"She isn't fine now!" the dwarrowdam growled. "We were talking and drinking tea one moment, and in the next, whoops! She started coughing and choking, and I didn't know what to do! She didn't want to call for a healer, so I tried patting her back, and giving her tea, but she was still heaving, and I gave her a bowl and came to fetch you!"

This didn't make sense.

His mother had never been sick.

The worry struck him as a lightning, and he forgot about his newly-packed bag, the unpacked one, his plans, his brother… All he knew was that he couldn't allow his mother to come to harm.

They were closer than the average mother and son – his father died a long time ago and Thorin and their cousins were always traveling for work, so he had to help out a lot. With his mother, they always found a way to put food on the table for one more day, to keep their little cottage tidy, and to lead the small community in Thorin's absence that remained loyal to the heirs of Durin. Kíli was there too – he was his best friend, his brother, his partner in crime – but since Fíli was the older, most of the responsibilities fell on him. Many would say that his childhood wasn't ideal, that he had to grow up too quickly, but he didn't regret one moment of it.

His mother was the strongest woman he'd known, and they supported each other unconditionally, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

He rushed to her rooms, his heart breaking at the sight.

"Amad!" he cried out, crouching down next to Dís. She was sitting on the ground, swaying as she tried to bend over the bowl. "Get water!" he snapped at the cartographer.

She quickly returned with a full cup of crystal clear water. Fíli gently eased his mother back from the bowl, holding her steadily. He managed to get a few drops of water between her lips, but she spat it out immediately.

"Burns!" she squeezed the word out between two gulps of air, clutching her throat. "It burns!"

Fíli, confused, checked the temperature of the water in the cup, but it was pleasantly cold.

"It's cold," he said, trying to keep his voice soothing and convincing. "I'm going to help you," he promised.

His presence seemed to calm Dís, and when she relaxed, he touched the cup to her mouth again. With quick reflexes, he managed to get her to swallow some, but the effect was immediate: she pushed him away just in time, as she threw up on the floor.

This scared Fíli.

He spotted Ronen standing near the doorway.

"Get Óin now!" he ordered, and his guard left him with the dwarrowdams.

The cartographer was standing from one foot to the other nervously, which annoyed Fíli. Why can't she keep her usual indifferent countenance?

"Tell me what happened!" he asked her a little too forcefully, ignoring his mother's protestations against needing a healer.

"I told you!" she answered on a shaky voice.

"That's not enough. Try to remember more details!"

"We were chatting, she complained about an upset stomach, so she made herself another cup of chamomile tea, which was supposed to help, but she was only halfway through her cup when she cried out in pain. Then I went for you. Maybe she's eaten something wrong?" she finished, seemingly at a loss.

"She didn't throw up any food," Fíli said, helping up his mother from the floor. She sat down on a chair, resting her head on the edge of the table. She was breathing heavily and clutching her stomach, clearly still in pain. Fíli tried soothing her by rubbing her back, but her eyes were shut tightly, and beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Fíli checked her temperature, but she wasn't feverish – yet.

Where was Óin when he was needed?!

The cartographer was too restless to stay still, and the clanging of the plates alerted Fíli.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up," she replied on a small voice.

"Stop it," he said harshly. "It might tell Óin what's wrong."

They continued to wait in silence: Fíli completely focusing on his mother, who made a few weak attempts to regain her dignity and shrug off his fussing, but it took too much energy and she gave up.

Finally, Óin arrived. He went through the same questions as Fíli, and checked the contents of the table.

"Dís wouldn't accidentally poison herself," he mumbled. "Does anyone know what she ate today?"

The door opened again, and Dwalin walked in. He hid his worry better than Fíli, but he crouched down beside Dís too, gently rubbing her cheek. She let out a strangled sob, in pain or in relief, no one knew.

Dwalin immediately took charge of the situation.

"Let's get her on the bed," he said, lifting her. Fíli went ahead to make her bed, while the cartographer helped to navigate through the rooms and doors. Óin followed them.

"When did she start having symptoms?" the healer asked.

Everyone turned to the cartographer for an answer.

"About half an hour ago. I immediately went to get him," she pointed at Fíli.

"She was fine when I came back from my trip an hour before that," Fíli added.

"Actually, no," the cartographer corrected him. "She was already complaining about her stomach by then, but she didn't want to worry you. She thought it might pass, but…"

This felt like a slap on his face. Amad always tried to hide her pain, be it physical or emotional. He was usually very sensitive to catch the smallest signs of her distress, how could he miss it now?

"Then it's probably the food," Óin declared. "We have to keep her under inspection, but I wouldn't worry yet. Considering that we're talking about her, I won't suggest any treatment. Water or a calming tea usually helps, but sometimes, a little rest is what does the trick." Óin paused, scratching his beard. "Something is going around, maybe we should check the food stores. Many came in with complaints of abdominal discomfort. She should be fine by the morning, but if she isn't, I'll come back."

Óin left. Dís was lying in her bed, and the three others were staring at her, mortified. Dwalin was the first to snap to action.

"You two, get out."

The cartographer only protested by dragging her feet as slowly as she could, but Fíli wasn't so meek.

"I won't leave her alone!" he growled. His worry was too great to keep his temper in check anymore, but Dwalin could take it in stride and won't hold it against him. "I can't leave her! She's sick, for Mahal's sake, she needs me!"

Dwalin grabbed his shoulders, and forcibly removed the young king from the room.

"She needs you to do what I say, and I'm saying that you and the lass should go back to the sitting room and wait for me!"

"No!"

"Stop this whining!" Dwalin growled back. "Allow her some modesty, she needs to get out of these clothes. You can come back after that."

Fíli was too upset to listen to reason, but Dwalin knew that and simply shut the door in his face. Fíli had a few unkind thoughts, but the cartographer touched his shoulder, and quietly led him back to the sitting room and pushed him into an armchair.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" she asked timidly.

"No!" he growled, sinking into the pillows to sulk. She still put an empty cup in front of him. He shot her an accusing glare. "I told you I don't want anything!"

She placed an unopened bottle of Best Friend next to the cup.

"Dís says this is your favorite drink, although she calls it 'foul brandy'."

Fíli acknowledged her words with a grunt. He didn't like that his mother was giving out such sensitive information about him. It was indeed his favorite drink, but he said he didn't want anything because he felt he had no right to feel better while his mother was suffering. He eyed the bottle, longing for the comforting burning taste, but didn't reach for it. Meanwhile, the dwarrowdam sat down on the other side of the table, fussing with what was probably the remains of her tea.

The familiar clatter of spoon and cup lulled Fíli into a relaxed state. He looked at the strange dwarrowdam opposite him: he wondered how she became his mother's closest friend and confidant. The cartographer tried her best to regain her usual indifference, going through the motions with particular focus, but there was a small crease between her eyebrows which belied her calmness. She stood and went to the cupboard, where Amad kept the alcoholic beverages. She chose a bottle of Starling's Plum: a sweet, but strong fruity liquor from the Dunlands. He watched curiously as she poured a small amount into her cup: he was surprised that his mother was having tea with someone who drank such a 'disgusting concoction'. Amad liked the natural taste of the herbs, and often scolded her sons for ruining it with sugar.

He finally relented and reached for the Best Friend, when the dwarrowdam across him gasped, and jumped up from her seat.

"The tea!" she squealed. "Something's wrong with my tea!"

* * *

 **A/N:** **Thanks for reading! Next chapter is coming on Monday. Now, drop me a few words in the box below! Or just follow/favorite, if you like it so far!**

Here are the promised summaries:

 _King of Erebor – A New Home:_ A year after the Battle of Five Armies, Dís invites a group of dwarrowdams from the Iron Hills. She hopes to marry off the bachelors of the Company, but the guys are a little reluctant. Kíli is still thinking about Tauriel, and after a little flirting, he decides to go and find out what happened to her. Fíli, who got his heart broken years ago, is not interested, so he sulks and avoids the dwarrowdams. He's also struggling a bit with his role as King under the Mountain, since he feels Thorin is constantly meddling. The dwarrowdams try to fit in, but one of them, Raya goes missing, and Fíli finds out that her conservative parents are behind her disappearance. On the chase, he is joined by a dwarrowdam, the cartographer who brought Dís to Erebor as soon as possible, and she proves to be a valuable ally. In the end, he starts to realize that being king is about a lot more than parading around in a crown and that his private wishes and desires can't stand in the way of his responsibility.

 _King of Erebor – Justice:_ The trial of Raya's parents turns into a tragedy, but there isn't much time to process their feelings, since Fíli apparently invited the Lórien elves to Erebor without the approval of his council. Fíli was working with Bard on this alliance: the elves are going to heal their desolate lands, so they can grow their own food. Still, most dwarves aren't as open-minded as Fíli, and he has a few altercations with Thorin on the matter. When the elves' work is coming close to its end, Fíli has to deal with another problem: a dwarf, Varni, uses the Spring Tour to harass dwarrowdams into being his wife. His first attempt fails, as he accidentally chooses Nori's secret lover, Alin, as his victim. Alin's friends trick Varni into another attempt, leading Fíli to catch him in the act. Varni turns out to be a skilled criminal, trading stolen merchandise. His accomplices escape, stealing what belongs to the elves, and Fíli and the others chase them. Throughout these adventures, he also tries to console Kasia, the dwarrowdam whom Kíli flirted with and left behind, which turns into an easy friendship, and the cartographer keeps putting him into awkward situations while helping him all the way. Meanwhile, Kíli is trapped in Mirkwood by Legolas: he has to nurse a sick Tauriel.


	2. A Son to Rely On

**A Son to Rely On**

Dwalin was pulling out items from Dís' wardrobe, one after another, as he was looking for a comfortable nightgown, but apparently, she only owned flimsy, lacy ones here, designed for seduction rather than comfort. He wondered if she had such plans or she only bought them just because she could afford them.

He turned his back to her, but he heard the pitiful sniffing and suppressed moans of pain. He knew that she hated feeling weak, but she'd never been sick, not even as a child, so he had no idea what to say to her. There was no way to ease her pain now, so Dwalin did the only thing he knew she'd appreciate: he got Fíli out of the room, granting her a few moments to panic and calm down in her own pace.

 _She'll be fine,_ he kept telling to himself. She had to be fine, because she was the glue that kept their family together through the decades of exile with her kind words, warm meals and comfortable home. Each Durin-cousin would go to extreme lengths to guarantee her a long, happy life in luxury, but out of all of them, Dwalin knew best what she wanted. They had a special bond since their childhood, as they were the closest in age among their cousins, but a lot happened during the years which, instead of severing this bond, forged it unbreakable.

* * *

 _Almost seventy years ago…_

Something woke Dwalin in the middle of the night, but as he checked his surroundings, he calmed a little. He was in Dís' cottage, in the bedroom closest to the entrance. Thorin slept next door, Dís and the dwarflings occupied the one farthest in the back. Nothing seemed amiss – no crying child, no foreign steps in the house, no rays of light sweeping in under the door.

Perhaps he was hungry; although Dís' delicious meals always filled their bellies completely. He got up for a late night snack; she wouldn't mind, he hoped, but if she did, it didn't matter. Lately she was all kinds of fussy, which annoyed and entertained them, guys at the same time. They liked pulling her leg by leaving her funny little reminders that she should stop harassing them with rules and housework.

He stretched and growled; sleeping in a real bed felt fantastic, but his body was more used to the hard ground on the road. He wondered where he would find someone willing to massage those knots out of his shoulders, because lately, Dís wasn't very helpful.

He strolled out to the kitchen. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked around for any leftover obstacles and wondered where to start searching. He almost yelped in his surprise to find Dís sitting at the table, her face buried in her hands. She didn't make a sound, didn't even move, and Dwalin wondered if she noticed him. Perhaps he wasn't hungry after all, only sensed her presence? Maybe he should just get back to bed, and not risk provoking a tantrum, but he had a bad feeling. He can't just leave her here, can he? What if something was wrong?

He made a step forward, purposefully making noise. She snapped her gaze at him immediately, her eyes round and desperate. He felt trapped, like she bewitched him with her stare, but not in a good sense. He wanted to run – run away from the raw emotion on her face, and run away from the tear she couldn't hold back from dripping on the table.

Neither of them moved. Dís apparently didn't realize or didn't want to acknowledge his presence, while Dwalin felt completely out of his depth.

He hadn't seen Dís cry since the death of her husband.

"Someone died?" he asked, his voice sounding too rough in the peaceful quiet of the night.

"No," she answered, clearly not comprehending why he would ask this.

"Then what happened? You're crying," he clarified.

He watched as her face changed from confused to tired, and then to furious in a matter of seconds.

"What happened?!" she hissed angrily. "You happened!"

She was on her feet now and quickly closed the distance between them. He felt righteous anger radiating from her body, the only thing keeping her temper in check was the thought of her sleeping boys.

"You happened!" Dís poked his chest with such a force that would leave a bruise. "You, and your dear friends happened. My brother! Your brother! Our cousins!"

Dwalin wondered what they'd done. She should know not to take their pranks seriously.

"You come to my house as if you own the place, making a mess, ruining my daily work, ruining my whole life!" She poked him again.

"You said it's fine to come here to sleep…"

"Yes! It's fine to come here to sleep! You're family! But am I not family to you? Am I nothing?"

She stopped with the poking, and turned away, raising her hands to her face. Dwalin really didn't understand what he'd done wrong, but it didn't change the fact that she was crying violently. Her sobs racked her shoulders with increasing force, but she still didn't make a sound. He couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled her in his arms instinctively, and for once, he seemed to do the right thing. She clutched his shirt, and cried. They stood there for a long time. She was very tense, and Dwalin had no idea how she kept it together during the day. She looked peaceful and almost happy all day, when she wasn't arguing. He started stroking her hair, which only made her cry harder, but snuggling closer. She looked so tiny and fragile and miserable in his arms! When her husband died, the Durin cousins vowed to keep an eye on her. Now, she was a trembling mess, and Dwalin hated that it had come to this.

"Don't say these things," Dwalin protested weakly when she started regaining her senses. "We love you and we want the best for you!"

Dís shot her a disbelieving glare. "Oh, you do, don't you?!"

Dwalin opened his mouth to defend himself, but Dís wouldn't have it.

"Don't say a word! I told you dozens of times what my problem is, stop acting so clueless! But why do I bother? It's not as if you would care about what I say!"

She was rambling, and Dwalin felt his temper rising. Why would he not care about Dís' well-being? He told it to her.

"Why? Why wouldn't you?" She was gaping, and it would have been funny had he not witnessed her earlier meltdown. "If you really cared about my well-being, you'd listen to me when I ask nicely, not only when I'm hysterical! Stop saying that you care, or for fuck's sake, _act_ like it!"

She rolled her eyes at his apparent confusion, but took a deep breath and decided to explain.

"Do you really care?" The vulnerability in her voice hit Dwalin with a force. She was the toughest 'dam he'd ever met, where did it come from? He wasn't sure he wanted to see this side of her, but she deserved better than being left alone with her sorrow. Dwalin nodded and sat down on a chair.

"I do."

"Well, it's not like I'll be able to just sleep after this… and I really don't want to wake Fíli. He's so sensitive."

Dwalin nodded. "You do realize that we are very grateful for your hospitality, right?"

"Of course you're welcome here," she snorted. "You're family. But can't you see that I don't find your teasing funny?"

"They're just jokes…" he mumbled.

"They are _not_. I'm asking for just a tiny semblance of respect. I'm punishing my boys for the exact things you're doing. Do you realize how hard it is to explain them that they're not allowed to disobey me when you're doing just that?" She was tugging on her hair nervously. "Kíli called a merchant a mean goat-fucking son of a bitch last week."

Dwalin flushed a bright red; goat-fucking was one of his favorite insults.

"I wasn't even there; I only heard it from Maren. Fíli had to deal with it all alone."

"What were they doing there alone?" Dwalin asked, bewildered.

"Shopping, of course! There's a lot to be done, and I had to get them out from under my feet!" she snapped. "Do you think I'm only sitting here all day waiting for you to drop in? I have a household to run. I have sons to feed. I don't even have a proper job, so I have to take what I find. Do you even know what it means keeping up a house?" She sighed. "Don't answer, because you think you do, but you don't. I'm not saying that you have it easier, living on the road, because that would be a lie, but please, don't underestimate what I'm doing here every day!"

He didn't say a word.

"Have you ever felt just hopeless and exhausted, Dwalin?" she asked. He nodded, ashamed for never realizing that Dís' life might be harder than they believed. They thought about her home, the warm beds and delicious meals, her smiles, the gifts they brought to her – they never stopped to consider she might have troubles, or (Mahal help!) feelings.

"I'm exhausted. I'm hopeless."

She was staring out on the window, to the peaceful darkness of the night. Now that he looked real hard, he noticed the purple circles under her eyes. She seemed to have lost weight too, but she hid it with her clothes. She looked ashamed for complaining so, but Dwalin knew how the darkest hours before the dawn can enlarge your fears until you feel paralyzed.

"Someone can stay with you all the time, if you want…"

She made a derisive snort. "Come on, Dwalin, why would I want that? You're just giving me more work than I can keep up with. You're more useful on the road. I'm fine here alone with my two little sons, my troubles and my hopelessness. But I would be very grateful if I don't have to fight with you all. I'm not asking for much. I'm just… Can you even imagine how I felt when Maren told me about the goat-fucking incident?"

Dwalin repressed the smile, correctly sensing it wasn't the time. It would be a hilarious story once, but not tonight.

"I'm supposed to lead an exemplary life, and my son is swearing publicly, when he can barely talk!" Kíli was twelve, and struggling with every kind of speech impediment, which didn't affect his verbosity, only his intelligibility. "And to top it off, he had no problem saying _those_ words clearly!"

Dwalin's lips twitched.

"Do not dare to laugh!" Dís threatened him, but it sounded like she had to keep herself from laughing too. Their laughter broke free at the same time, as if they needed some sort of release after such an emotionally heavy conversation. "Stop laughing!" she pleaded. He calmed down sooner than her, and took her hand in his.

"I solemnly swear that I won't say goat-fucking ever again near you sons," he promised.

"Oh, hush, you can say goat-fucking," she waved him off. "They already know that one. But I'd appreciate if you don't bring home new ones, alright?"

Dwalin nodded. She was smiling, and he felt a chance to escape and dwell on her troubles by himself for a while.

"Let's go to bed, Dís," he said.

"Oh, no, no going to bed for me for a while," she rolled her eyes, her smile turning bittersweet.

"But you said you're…"

"I'm exhausted. But I'm still way too emotional, and I'm just going to burst out in tears again, and… I can't do that. Fíli would wake up and…"

A new drop of tear slid down on her cheeks, and she immediately buried her face in her hands, as if hiding her weakness. Dwalin softly pulled her wrists down, and tilting her head by her chin to look up to him.

"Stop making excuses. You're free to cry."

"No, I… You see, Fíli is very sensitive. He's going to wake up and crawl into my bed, and say all the nice things to make me feel better… and it's just too much! He's seventeen, for fuck's sake!" She was sobbing again. "He's… supposed to be running around with toy swords, not… not…" Her sobs took over her words, but Dwalin waited, until she calmed down. "He's such a good boy. He's doing everything I ask of him. He's taking care of Kíli, he's doing the shopping, even when he has to placate the offended merchants, he's … He's… I'm robbing him of his childhood, Dwalin!"

Dwalin made a noncommittal sound. Their whole generation was robbed of their childhood by the dragon, so he wasn't much of an expert on the topic.

She seemed to be struggling with another confession, so he waited.

"I used to cry all the time after I put them to bed. I thought they were sleeping and I was quiet enough, but one day, I was here in the kitchen, cleaning up and crying pathetically, and he just hugged me, and he said 'I'm here, Mum! Let me help!' and I just cried harder and vowed to never let him see my tears again. He's my son. I should give him a bright future. He shouldn't spend his life trying to chase away my misery."

Dwalin could very well picture little Fíli with those big, serious eyes of his, saying the words.

"It was heart-breaking… but sometimes I can't help it, you know, when I'm so tired that I'm literally in pain, and I have to… He always watches me and he always wakes up… I'm terribly selfish, but he's the one who keeps me going on."

She sighed with frustration.

"My idiot of a brother told him that he should be the man of the house when he's away, and he takes it so seriously! He shouldn't bear this burden. And he acts like it's natural! He never complains like Kíli, he never asks why he has to do what I say. He just does so, and watches me constantly, and…"

"I get it, Dís."

"He should be a child. He should be running around with toy swords."

"Yes, he should. I will bring one next time."

"Thank you, Dwalin."

"Now go to sleep."

"I can't wake Fíli. He can't know I'm again… He would be very angry with you if he knew you made me cry."

That was a disturbing thought. Fíli was still very young, but had a fierce glare, and a mean protective streak when it came to Kíli – and apparently, his mother. If he decided that Dwalin and Thorin and the others were causing her grief, he would find a way to make his displeasure known and then Mahal help them!

"He won't know. I'm going to take care of the others. Perhaps I should visit that mean goat-fucker son of a bitch too," he offered with a half-smile. Dís' attempt at a smile was pathetic at best, but it would suffice for now. "Come to bed."

"I can't wake…"

"Fíli. I know. Not yours, mine."

"But you're tired and…"

"And you are, too. Stop arguing, or I'm waking Fíli and he will send you to bed."

Dís looked horrified.

* * *

 _Now_

After a little nudging, Dís managed to get up and change into a nightgown.

"What's happening to me?" She sounded hopeless.

"We don't know, but we'll find out."

"I'm going to die."

"No you won't." When she started to protest weakly, Dwalin resorted to use the most efficient weapon against her. "Shall I send in Fíli to discuss it?" He'll set her right.

Her eyes snapped open.

"You can't tell him that!"

"I won't; you will, if you truly think so. You can't rob him of the opportunity to say his goodbye."

"I can! Watch me," she said, but her words caused a fit of coughing, which changed her mind. "I want Fee," she whispered. "I need to tell… thank…"

She descended into restless sleep without finishing her thought. Dwalin hoped that it would help her shake off whatever ailed her.

Walking out, he listed off in his head what he needed to do now. Fíli would insist on staying – there was no reason to fight him on this. Thorin had a right to visit his sister and worry over her too, however useless it would be. Vera should be notified, since she would have to oversee the dinner party for the Spring Tour participants by herself tonight. Hopefully, he'd be free after arranging all of these, because he had another dwarrowdam waiting for him right now, who was already accusing him of dodging a serious conversation about their future as a couple.

The pleasant image of his plans was dispelled by the ugly confrontation happening in the sitting room.

"It was you!" Fíli shouted at the lass. He was standing, one of his hands was slammed down on the table, and the other was tightly fisted around something behind his back. Reika looked frightened, trying to sink as low in her seat as she could, but instead of watching her attacker, she was staring at something in front of her on the table. "You poisoned her! You spineless, traitorous wench!"

The lass was shaking her head, but didn't answer, and Dwalin instinctively caught Fíli's hand before he could pull out his dagger.

"Watch your tongue!"

Fíli struggled; he was strong, and his emotional upheaval gave him even more power, but Dwalin fortunately knew a trick or two to unarm anyone.

"But she poisoned Amad!" Fíli cried out, unable to tear his glare away from the cowering dwarrowdam. "Something's wrong with the tea!"

"Sit down and let me see," Dwalin ordered the younger dwarf.

The tea was indeed wrong: Dwalin had never seen the harmless drink to take this ugly purple color. He picked up a spoon and stirred the liquid. He filled the spoon and poured its content back from a couple of inches of height. He smelled it. He found nothing alarming apart from its look, but he didn't want to risk a poisoning by tasting it.

"How did you get this?" he asked the two youngsters.

Fíli answered first: "She put that in her tea!"

Dwalin inspected the bottle. _Starling's_ were a fairly common brand of liquors, made of the leftover fruits after a flock of birds (most commonly starlings, hence the name) passed through the orchards of the Dunlands.

"Did you put this in your tea?" he turned to the lass. Reika finally raised her gaze, and nodded.

"That's when it changed colors."

"I see." In truth, Dwalin had no idea what it meant.

"She poisoned Amad!" Fíli repeated petulantly. Dwalin shot him an annoyed glare: there was no way that she would poison Dís, he was sure about that. Usually, the young king's instincts worked impeccably, and his vehemence to accuse Reika didn't sit well with Dwalin.

"What about the cup Dís was drinking from? Did it look normal?"

"It's still here."

Dwalin inspected the half-full cup similarly, but he found nothing out of the ordinary. The clever lass gave him the bottle of Starling's, indicating that he should try mixing it into Dís' tea, and indeed, the content of the cup changed its color to the same purple shade.

"So, the tea's suspicious," Dwalin declared. Fíli was hovering behind him, fortunately keeping his mouth shut. "When we put this thing into it. I doubt Dís would keep poisonous weeds around or that she wouldn't recognize one, so it's either in the water, or in the cups or in the liquor."

He noticed another bottle on the table: Fíli's precious Best Friend, still unopened. Fíli tried to protest, but Dwalin ignored it and with the lass' help, he prepared another cup of tea using the same ingredients, but instead of the Starling's, he poured some Best Friend into the cup.

It became purple again.

He let out a string of rude Khuzdul words, and edited the list of tasks in his mind.

He'll notify Vera of Dís' absence. He'll send a message to Óin about the possibility of poisoning. He'll have to fetch Thorin immediately, because if it's a deliberate attempt, then he can be in danger too, and he deserved to worry about his sister anyway. He'll stay here and continue experimenting, and hope that Fíli won't throw a tantrum and Reika can shake off her shock.

And unfortunately, he'll have to put off that certain conversation with Liv, again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Chapter two - and on schedule! Did you like the little background I gave with the flashback? There will be some more - I wanted to explore how they all lived before the Quest.

So, Dwalin's day is not going according to plan, Fíli is being difficult, but at least the cartographer isn't nameless anymore.

Thanks for reading!

to **dojoson41:** Yup, cliffhanger. And it's not like the mystery is completely solved yet.


	3. A Mother to Rely On

**A Mother to Rely On**

"You," Dwalin turned to Fíli, "go sit with your mother. She's sleeping now, but she may appreciate your company if she wakes."

Fíli growled. Not because he didn't want to watch over his mother, but they had _evidence_ now that something sinister was going on! He wanted to get to the bottom of it. Dwalin had little patience for his hostility: he grabbed him by the shoulders and forcefully got him out of the room.

"Stay with your mother," Dwalin growled on a low voice, his tone leaving no place for objection. Fíli felt his fury simmering under his focused façade, but the harsh, commanding tone demanded the same unconditional obedience as in his childhood on the training yard. "Don't give her anything yet, not even if she begs for it."

Fíli knew that the instruction was reasonable, but he found the thought of denying her unbearable.

"Do you really think that the lass had anything to do with it?"

Fíli was caught off guard by the sudden change of topic.

"What?"

"You heard me. I trust your instincts. Do you truly think that she's behind it, or were you just lashing out?"

Fíli closed his eyes, massaging his brows. It seemed whenever his emotions could catch up with the events tonight, something new happened. When he managed to tone down his panic, they found out about the tea, and his anger flared up. Then he had to calm down again to care for his mother even if he couldn't really help, and Dwalin immediately requested him to pass judgment on the whole matter. He wasn't ready for this!

Dwalin was staring at him patiently. They'd spent a long year on the road together once, they'd learnt to work together really well, they'd learnt to read each other really well. He trusted Fíli's judgment, and now he was giving him time to think it through – and Fíli hated it. He hadn't needed so much time to make a decision back then. He'd just listened to his instincts and taken immediate action, because a moment of hesitation could cost them their life. He said the first thing that came to his mind:

"She's fine."

Dwalin nodded and returned to the sitting room, probably to continue experimenting with the tea and the possible poison. He's going to take care of this business, Fíli knew. Despite appearances, Dwalin was the most level-headed person Fíli had ever met – at least in dire situations. Fíli functioned well enough usually, but when it concerned his mother…

He quietly eased open the door.

"Amad?"

No answer came. He entered and checked her: she was sleeping, and her temperature was normal, despite the cold sweat on her temples. Fíli picked up a small towel, and remembered just in time to keep it dry. He sat on the edge of her bed and started gently wiping her forehead.

He hoped that she would recover soon. The possibility of poisoning chilled him to the bones – a poison might be lethal, but he refused to acknowledge that option yet. He needed his mother. She was the one who kept him going when he was having doubts.

" _Maybe you should stop hiding behind his mothers skirts!"_

Thorin's playful chiding had been echoing in his ears for the past weeks, but now these light teasing words were cutting deeper than ever.

* * *

 _Fourteen years ago_

They could already see the little cottage on the horizon. The night had already fallen hours ago, but Dwalin and Fíli were really looking forward to a soft bed and a warm meal, so despite walking the whole day, they increased their pace.

Fíli worried a little about bothering his mother in the middle of the night, but Dwalin said it was fine. Fíli himself recalled countless times when Dwalin and the other Durin-cousins came back from a long trip – it was impossible to precisely schedule their arrival, and neither he, nor his mother could ask them to stay away until the morning. Now, Fíli too had spent more than a year on the road, which was quite different from his previous, short trips. He truly didn't want to inconvenience Amad by waking her, but the promise of the comforts of their little cottage seemed more inviting than ever.

Dwalin counted the windows from outside, sneaking across the garden, careful not to ruin the plants, as most of them would be picked and dried and packed for the men of the nearby villages. He knocked on the window which belonged to Dís' room, and the dwarrowdam hurried to let the travelers inside.

Fíli was fidgeting nervously in the few seconds of waiting.

He'd left more than a year ago. He'd sent a letter from time to time, but he'd heard nothing about how they fared here. He wondered if Amad had changed, if she had lacked anything, if Kíli had helped enough… For a scary moment, it occurred to him that had anything horrible happened, he would only learn about it now.

He put this thought aside immediately. He sneaked a glance at his companion: Dwalin was straightening his clothes, checking if all of his weapons were in place. Fíli did the same, wondering if Amad would let him in when she saw his new appearance.

Fíli had always imagined 'being on the road' as a huge, exciting adventure. It turned out to be a lot more: it was a life-changing experience, which came exactly at the right time. His long-time sweetheart, Flor, had abruptly left Longhaven and Fíli was heart-broken. No one knew any more than vague gossips, and he couldn't really inquire, because their affair was a well-guarded secret. He wanted to go looking for her, but Thorin was away, so he couldn't put aside his duties if he didn't want to burden his mother too much. Getting out of bed became harder every morning: he either hoped that Flor would be back, only to get disappointed, or he remembered that she was missing, so it wasn't worth getting up. After confessing to Kíli, his little brother's not so subtle comments soon alerted their mother too. She finally put everything into perspective, and he learnt how to function.

One day, a group of merchants brought Dwalin and Thorin home. The two dwarves had been guarding the cargo, and Thorin got injured. He was unfit to continue the journey. Dwalin was going to finish the job alone, but Dís convinced him to take Fíli with him.

Fighting orcs and bandits was very different from displaying his talent in the training yard. He didn't care much for the miserable life that awaited him without his One, but any mistake he made due to a moment of inattention or flaunting his skills would also harm Dwalin, the merchants, and even the dwarves back at home. Dwalin didn't care for his whining either – he told him on several occasion. Fíli couldn't pinpoint the moment when he started to breathe again, but Dwalin had a wonderfully liberating approach to living, and Fíli was an eager student.

He'd changed on the road – a lot.

Amad threw open the door, and as Dwalin stood closer, she hugged him first, touching her forehead to his. "Where is he? Is he alright?" she asked.

Fíli shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, but his worry was unfounded as she locked him in a tight embrace, murmuring words of relief.

They put down their bags in their usual rooms and went outside to the well to clean up a little.

"There's no better food than the first meal after coming home," the older dwarf said, although Dís only promised them some bread with ham and eggs.

When they sat down and tasted it, Fíli had to agree.

"You make the best eggs in the whole world!" Fíli exclaimed. Amad sat down with them, but she was content to merely watch them. His comment earned a laugh.

"What a praise from my worldly son!"

They passed the time with banter like this while they ate – none of them wishing to ruin the appetite with possible bad news. Fíli sometimes caught Amad studying him. Was she looking for clues of his emotional state or was she appalled by the changes, he couldn't tell. Her gaze fluttered from his piercings to the new hairstyle, but lingered longer on his moustache braids. He wondered with amusement if she was going to scold him for such additions.

She offered them drinks after the meal, and all three of them filled a pipe, since their thirst for stories was stronger than exhaustion. Fíli left the story-telling mostly to Dwalin: his cousin had explained and often repeated the most important rule _(What happens on the road stays on the road!),_ so Fíli trusted him to decide what Amad should know.

It seemed Longhaven was still the peaceful haven for the Longbeard clan, just like when he'd left. Apparently, dwarves, who'd settled down elsewhere to make a living, were returning to their clan; their distant cousins, Dori and Ori among them. Thorin was being his charming, pedantic self, often driving her crazy, but she was happy to have her brother at home. Kíli made up for Fíli's absence by causing more trouble than usual. Fíli snorted at that: probably he was causing the same amount of trouble, but he had no one to cover it up smartly.

Finally, they bid each other goodbye and went to bed.

His door creaked open just after he pulled the blankets over his shoulders. He wanted to grab his dagger immediately, but Dwalin instructed him to have no weapon in his bed. It was already strange not to sleep in full gear, but to forego such basic means of protection seemed stupid, until he realized that his mother was peeking inside through the doorway. The thought of greeting her with a dagger horrified him, and suddenly, all of Dwalin's previous instructions made a lot more sense.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, and closed the door behind her.

"No."

She walked closer, slowly, studying his face. He beckoned her to sit down on the edge of his bed. They spoke at the same time:

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Is everything alright, Amad?" he asked.

"You first," she said firmly.

Fíli shrugged. "Yes." He was truly alright, and he was happy to say so, but he didn't want to dwell on the topic of his heartbreak more than necessary. Amad accepted it, but her fidgeting implied that she had something bad to say.

"She's back," she whispered, as if she wished that the darkness would swallow the words.

Fíli's heart beat faster in excitement. Surely she meant Flor! But her frown said that all was not well. Maybe she had been truly captured by elves? But as it turned out, this would have been the favorable scenario.

"With her husband."

This didn't make sense at all. Who was this special _she_ then? Because surely not…

"Flor moved back here with her husband three months after you left."

Fíli didn't react; he didn't even breathe, as if his stillness could stop the time. If he thought that her departure didn't make sense, then this new piece of information must not even exist in this reality.

Amad didn't allow his mind to dive into that crazy, peaceful place where he was happy and everything was normal, because she continued speaking.

"She came back as if nothing happened. She is parading around with that oaf, expecting congratulations for the hundredth time. Kíli says that she asked where you were from friends, but she didn't dare to face him privately. Her oaf of a husband is a miner, now making a living by carving the halls. She's helping to establish a nursery."

This time, she waited for him to move, to react, even if she had to wait for a very long time. His body started to protest against the lack of air, and after a while, he felt that his fingers were totally numb by being fisted too hard for too long, and he hung his head, burying it in his hands. He focused on his breathing – three breaths, then swallow, repeat – and to hold back tears. He'd cried himself out on Kíli's shoulders after a few days of uncertainty, and then Amad witnessed an emotional breakdown too, but he wouldn't shed any more tears. Especially not for such a traitor.

Amad was rubbing the top of his head, her fingers wandering to the short patches on the sides. His long hair could be detrimental in a close-up fight, so he shaved it off around his ears, but now he missed hiding behind those strands. He hoped it would grow back quickly. He focused on her hand, her touch reminding him that he wasn't alone.

"What should I do now?"

"Well, you can stay with Dwalin for example," she shrugged. "I can make up a reason for Thorin to stay."

Fíli looked at her, still squinting. She tried to keep a straight face, but her nose was twitching.

"Doesn't he annoy you?"

"He's my brother, of course he annoys me! That's what brothers do."

Fíli snorted. Thorin could drive Amad crazy in mere days. He would have to ask Kíli about how they got on for such a long time.

Yet, no matter how tempting he found this offer, he couldn't simply say yes. Longhaven was his home. He was Thorin's heir, and while it would be perfectly reasonable to see the world and gain more experience, it wouldn't be for the right reason. He can't just run away, he's not a coward! He shouldn't be forced out of his home. If she doesn't like him here, then she can crawl back to wherever she shacked up with that orc-spawn!

"I'll keep it in mind," he said slowly.

Amad looked at him questioningly, but he didn't elaborate. She stood up with a sigh, kissed the top of his head and left. This made him feel like a little boy, but he cherished the moment, and snuggled back under his blanket. He was happy as a little boy, and he took this memory to his journey to the land of dreams.

The morning was horrible. Thorin was droning on, analyzing local events for him, while Kíli kept shooting him worried glances, and occasionally disturbed the peace with an overtly cheerful tavern story. Fíli then went to the market to see his old friends, where everyone greeted him with gifts: a sandwich, a new belt, a cup of beer. He got reacquainted with Dori and Ori. Everyone demanded stories, and he promised to recount everything.

He'd noticed Flor long before she noticed him: he watched her from afar. She looked as pretty as he remembered: her smile as radiant, her lips as kissable… she was talking to a friend, and Fíli walked closer. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be noticed, but noticed he was by the friend, who called out loudly, and he had no choice than to acknowledge them. Flor turned, her thick black hair prettily flowing over her shoulders, her perfect lips pulled into a wide smile, her emerald eyes sparkling with… something foreign. He was used to find happiness and seduction there, but now, his guts twisted painfully as he remembered that she belonged to another now. He waved back and left in a hurry without addressing them. Later in the day, he spied the new husband, as he worked on the new great hall. He despised him without knowing him: he held the tools in the wrong way, his work was sloppy, and his appearance lacking.

He took a long walk in the nearby forest to clean his head from the malicious thoughts before going home. Kíli was worried. Dwalin cocked an eyebrow, assessing his mood over dinner. Thorin, as usual, ignored the obvious signs of his distress. Amad went on with her chores, and Fíli joined her in the kitchen to help with the dishes, as he always did.

"I don't want to run away," he started. "I can't be a coward."

"Dwalin wouldn't mind," she said nonchalantly. "He's impressed by you, which doesn't surprise me at all. He also thinks that you're more fun than Thorin, which is, again, not at all surprising."

"I can't let her to drive me away!" Fíli said, putting down the plate he was drying. "I'm… I can't let her… I can't give her so much power over me! I hate her. I want to make her suffer as I do. I want to see her suffer." He stopped, his tone changing from angry to scared. "I'm a hateful person now, and I don't want to be like that."

"I can't forgive her for making you say these things!" Amad answered with quiet fury. "Don't think that I haven't tried to kick her out. I had no official reason though, so I had to resort to more subtle means, but she didn't take the hint."

"Well, if this place is too little for the two of us, she'll be the one to go."

He tried to sound unaffected, but his declaration was greater than his confidence. Dís wasn't fooled, but Fíli didn't want her to convince him otherwise.

"I can't talk to her. I can't even look at her."

"Then ignore her."

"I can't do it alone, Amad," he said, pleading for her support.

"You won't have to," she promised.

* * *

 _Now_

Amad never wavered, while Fíli often doubted himself through the years. Amad caught Flor in bureaucratic traps when she tried to improve her situation, so Fíli never had to talk to her, not even in an official capacity. Amad supported him when he took a more dynamic approach to leadership after returning from his travels, and shrugged off the complaints of those who loathed change. Amad knew that he accepted the crown because he wanted it, not because he felt ready, yet, she was happy for him.

"I'm thirsty."

The faint voice snapped him out of his musings.

"I know," he said. "You can't drink yet."

"It burns!" she argued, but there was no vehemence in her complaint. She seemed to have developed a fever.

"I know," he said, his incompetence making him desperate as she reached out for his hand.

"I don't want to burn again!"

If only Óin could come and give an antidote!

* * *

When Dwalin returned to the sitting room, Reika was still staring at the door on which he and Fíli left a couple of minutes ago. Dwalin thought her sturdier than this; but who was he to judge? She was the same age as Kíli, and while she'd spent half of her life alone, traveling, she seemed to be very attached to Dís. You don't get attached on the road, so this worry must be new to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked. This at least snapped her out of the shock, enough to consider her answer.

"I'm not the one poisoned here," she shrugged. He watched as her face assumed her usual indifferent expression, relieved to discover that the lass was just as able to control her feelings as Fíli. Most grown dwarves wouldn't be ready to deal with problems so fast, but if he was stuck here for the night, at least he was surrounded by capable people. He would also put in a few good words for Fíli's guard: Ronen he proved his competence day by day. Not many would think to fetch him without orders, but Ronen recognized that they required more assistance, and he knew who to call.

"Good. Then let's experiment a little."

They started by outlining the possibilities. They listed substances, motifs, possible assailants, cures. They had little to go on, but they had to pass the time until either Óin or Thorin arrived. First, Vera barged into the room.

"Where is Dís? Shall I have to host this dinner by myself?" she questioned accusingly. As Dáin's wife, she had little use for tact, and while she behaved impeccably in front of the public, she preferred to speak freely in front of her kin.

"Dís is sick," Dwalin growled. "Be quiet, and host your dinner alone!"

Vera threw up her arms with a huff, shooting him an amused glance.

"Such impertinence! Why, Mahal, can't I deal with the nicer brother?" she asked theatrically.

"Sit down, and listen. Is Thorin not with you?"

"Thorin? That loquacious fellow is still pestering that soft lad! Were I him, I would have shut him up by now! No," she sighed when Dwalin glared again. "I can find my way here. I can make my inquiries here. I've left them behind. They're on their way though."

Dwalin looked at Reika over the table. The lass pretended to be wholly engaged in her work, and Dwalin stifled a smile. He considered going for Thorin and drag him by his beard, because he really wanted to get over this as quickly as possible, but he didn't want to leave the little lass alone with Vera. He feared that they would eat each other alive without supervision.

The door was thrown open theatrically again:

"Dear sister, what is this secrecy for?" said Thorin as he entered. "What's so important that cannot wait until you join us in the Courting Hall? I'm sure your dress is pretty, and I'm not the right person to decide it!"

His attempt at humor came at the wrong time, and he realized it when he met Dwalin's grave expression.

"Dís is sick. Others are too. We think the river might be poisoned."

* * *

 **A/N:** I really liked Fíli in this chapter - I hope it's not only me! I wish I could get him out of this sad situation... oh, wait, I actually can.

to **Emrfangirl:** Nope, Fíli still doesn't know her name, but he'll learn it soon-ish. Tbh, when in his pov, I mostly just call her Cart, short for Cartographer. (Creative, I know.) Glad to see you again!


	4. Genuine Approach

**Genuine Approach**

"Define poisoned," Thorin said, instantly switching back to his meticulous attitude to deal with things. By handing the crown over to Fíli, he'd chosen to pursue a different, hobbit-like lifestyle. He'd grown soft both in body and in heart, and Dwalin sought him out less and less these days, but they easily fell back to their old rhythm. Dwalin immediately filled him in on what they've worked out so far.

Reika came up with the theory that somehow, the water is poisoned – all signs pointed at that. For one, it was a relief, because it might not be a deliberate attempt against the Durins, but, if indeed the water supply was infected, then the mild symptoms that Óin mentioned could increase with time. Reika was (the most useful) part of the expert team whose job was to map out the new course of the underground river, and she said that they still couldn't get to the upper levels. She believed that the infection could come from natural sources, but she maintained that it was just a theory until they can do actual tests on the river.

Dwalin was more suspicious. Since the beginning of the time, attempts to unseat the Durin family from their position happened regularly. Recently, they'd imprisoned two dwarves, who hinted at something worrisome. These dwarves were skilled criminals, their expertise ranging from stealing to assaulting women, covering everything in between. They called themselves Nomads: dwarves, who weren't accepted in any respectable community, wandered, and thrived on stealing, trickery and destruction. One of the prisoners alluded to a plan in motion to bring a so-called 'queen' here. Naturally, servants who got in touch with the royals had been thoroughly interviewed and checked, but they weren't above suspicion. The symptoms that Óin reported were nowhere near as strong as Dís' reaction to the substance. Reika had a simple explanation for that: any infection would reach the higher levels sooner, so she might have been affected for days already without notice. They'd also just gotten fresh water for their teas, so maybe she'd consumed a large amount suddenly. It sounded reasonable, yet Dwalin wasn't convinced that it was an accident.

"It is indeed most worrisome," Thorin frowned, hearing the theories. "While we were waiting for dinner in the Courting Hall, a lass approached me."

Dwalin bit down on his tongue. It was indeed worrisome; what sort of simpleton would seek out Thorin, if not for mercenary reasons? Thorin came from a respectable line, he might be called handsome and he had a considerable fortune to his name now, but women usually took a back turn when he opened his mouth (and he never learnt to keep it shut).

"Do tell me," he replied sarcastically.

"It's not like that!" Thorin's defensive tone and his blushing made it even funnier. "She asked me for help. She thinks that a Nomad is following her."

"Oh, that attention-seeking wench!" Vera growled. "Was it Seenia again? She's approached no less than three dwarves for protection already! Oh, how I regret now telling them the whole story!"

One of the two prisoners, Varni, took advantage of the purpose of the Spring Tour. He wanted to gain money and influence through marriage. When he got imprisoned, Vera warned the dwarrowdams to watch out for similar dangers. Apparently, some found more danger than others.

"I think it's worth looking into," Thorin spoke up. "I was very circumspect. Pearl seems genuine."

Dwalin snorted. "Everyone seems genuine to you!" He made a motion, implying that the person should have a large bosom to achieve that. Thorin cleared his throat to protest, but Dwalin's grin shut him up.

Vera frowned. "Pearl is very reserved," she said. "I'm surprised she reached out to _you._ Have you ever talked to her before?"

Thorin shook his head. Dwalin shook his head too, and turned back to the table. While he would enjoy hearing Vera's opinion about Thorin's lack of good sense, he didn't want to get involved in the debate. Reika was impatiently sitting on her chair.

"Will it take long?" she whispered.

"Probably," he mouthed back.

"Can't I just go on and make the tests?"

"What tests are you going to do?" Thorin inquired loudly instead of answering to Vera.

Reika stood up and recited with downcast eyes: "Alcohol turns the color of the substance purple, My Lord."

"So are you going to dump beer into the river or what?"

"That is the plan, My Lord."

Thorin considered the idea. "Are you sure? We don't know what sort of poison it is. It might come from the food stores, and be a simple stomach bug."

"It might be. But the water shouldn't be purple, so I'll just go and check my theory."

At the door, she started to bow, when she remembered that dwarrowdams were supposed to curtsey, and it looked really awkward in the end. She clearly didn't have patience for Thorin's lengthy interrogation, and preferred to act. Dwalin stood to follow her, glancing back at Thorin.

"Are you coming? Fíli is with Dís. We'll be back soon."

Thorin was gaping. He wasn't used to being dismissed so, but he wanted to escape Vera's scrutiny. She joined too, if only to pester her cousin-in-law about his possible love interests.

"So how exactly did you make sure that Pearl is telling the truth?" Vera asked Thorin conversationally. "Dís hasn't been there yet to check her story."

"I don't need my little sister to meddle in my business!" Thorin growled. After a moment, he continued meekly: "Is she trustworthy?"

Vera let out a booming laugh.

"I thought you are perfectly sure that she's genuine!"

"She must be," Thorin mumbled. "Why would she lie?"

"I don't know. Maybe to get you to talk to her? Ask Seenia, she has the most creative methods to arouse interest and cause brawls among males."

"I haven't seen Pearl cause any brawls," Thorin concluded.

"As if you noticed anything in that room!" Vera cackled, not quite able to decide if it was amusing or outrageous. Dwalin found it hilarious, but he didn't hold a personal grudge. One of Vera's closest friends, Erna, came to Erebor and signed up for the Spring Tour too. Thanks to some divine intervention, she managed to capture Thorin's attention. In Dwalin's (and everyone's) opinion, Thorin was the only person under the Lonely Mountain who failed to notice that Erna was hoping for a courtship, but Thorin was convinced that she was a wonderful friend, nothing more.

"I notice a lot!" Thorin said, adding: "You should get off my case. I'm old. I retired. Attempts to find me a wife failed several times, you should focus your energy on finding Fíli a queen. Yet, I do not see you harassing him with the matter!"

Dwalin chuckled. Reika shot him an annoyed glare, as he caught up to her on a corner: she hated the constant gossiping that enwrapped the Spring Tour, as she wanted nothing to do with romance and marriage. The little lass was often so rigid! He beckoned her closer, so she could listen to the conversation too. A little eavesdropping wouldn't hurt her, and Thorin's love life was a great cautionary tale.

"Fíli doesn't need us to find him a wife. He'll do fine on his own when the time comes."

" _Fíli will do fine!"_ Thorin mocked Vera. "How do you know that? He hasn't shown any interest. He doesn't even show up at the parties!"

"He has a good reason for that, I'm sure."

"You're sure? I bet this reason is that he's mommy's little favorite. He can get away with anything, don't think I haven't noticed that! Dís is spoiling that boy and it does not do him any good."

"That spoiled boy is your king now, Thorin. You gave him the crown," Vera deadpanned. "Stop disrespecting him because you can't talk to women without mucking it up. Now, fess up, how did Pearl get a grip on you?"

"She didn't get a grip on me!" Thorin huffed, refusing to elaborate further. Vera kept teasing him, but soon they arrived at the river bench.

Reika uncorked the bottle of cheap brandy that she took for the test. They watched, holding their breath, as she kneeled down, raised the bottle above the surface and poured a small amount into the water.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, pushing himself closer to inspect the process.

Reika repeated the action, and Thorin gasped.

"Mahal! It's truly purple! Good job, Rita!"

Dwalin, less surprised by the result, covered his bursting laughter with a snort. Thorin's eyes followed as the purple patch trickled away, so he didn't see the grimace of the dwarrowdam and Reika didn't call him out on his mistake.

"Why do you think it happened?" Thorin asked rhetorically, earning another grimace.

"Because the river contains a so far unidentified substance, which may be the cause of the symptoms Óin mentioned." Reika explained all this as if she was talking to a reluctant child, which greatly amused both Dwalin and Vera, but Thorin seemed oblivious.

"That's a perfectly precise summary!" he praised the lass. "Do we have any idea what this substance might be?"

"Well, I don't know about 'us' since I don't know what 'you' know," she replied with a hint of insolence, "but it might be a lot of things. The discoloration might imply traces sulfur, but the shade is off and there's no distinctive smell. Iodine _can_ take a similar color, but by adding alcohol, it should turn brown. Lead would cause more severe symptoms, which were only produced by Dís, and I don't know if it reacts to alcohol. There could be other natural substances, like bodies of dead animals or excrement, but that wouldn't explain any discoloration as far as I know. Perhaps a body of some foul creature, like an orc? Oh, and don't forget about the dragon which dwelt here for a while, it might have left behind a memento."

Her speech rendered Thorin quiet.

"Of course, we should check the food stores, just in case. The discoloration might be completely unrelated to the disease, but I wouldn't drink this water for the time being."

Thorin nodded along. The lass unintentionally gave him what he wanted, and now he would mull over every possibility, before coming to a conclusion. They walked back in silence, not willing to discuss the revelations where anyone can hear them.

"We have to call off the dinner," Vera said gravely. "It's a good thing that we always wait for Dís before sitting down. Dear Mahal, all of our food might be poisoned!"

"Let's not be so hasty, Vera," Thorin comforted her by squeezing her shoulder. "Our people need their dinner, and we don't want to raise panic either. Water is not used for every food, and who knows? Boiling is known to kill infection."

Reika snorted, and Dwalin silently agreed. It didn't work with the tea. He had a sudden urge to go to the Courting Hall and check if Liv was alright – she rarely consumed any alcohol, she would be the last to notice anything amiss. She shouldn't be there as they would have met elsewhere, but they were long past the agreed time, so probably she was done waiting.

They had nothing to do here right now. Óin hadn't arrived yet and Fíli was watching over Dís. Thorin wanted to see his sister, but Fíli said that she'd just gone back to sleep and promptly shooed them out.

"I'm going to the Courting Hall, anyway," he stood restlessly. "We should test the food for poison discretely, and the party could go on." He also wanted to take a look at the lass that Thorin had mentioned. He turned to Reika. "I don't know what takes so long for Óin, but can you tell him everything we've found?"

"Sure."

"Do you mind if I assign a guard for you?"

The lass cast her eyes to the ground.

"The King truly suspects me, doesn't he?" she asked, crestfallen.

"No, he doesn't. Still, you were here. As far as we know, you could have been the target. Let's endure someone for your own safety."

Reika flinched, but mumbled her permission.

Dwalin, not in the mood for further discussion, dictated a fast pace on their way.

He threw open the door to the Courting Hall. As time passed, less and less people frequented these gatherings, the established couples preferring more secluded places, but it seemed as if everyone chose to attend tonight. He looked around for members of the Company. He only found Dori, Bofur and Balin.

His gaze was immediately drawn away as he heard the once despised, now cherished voice: Liv dominated every conversation she entered. He hoped that Thorin and Vera can work out something for the meal; they were both competent leaders, and they were familiar enough with the testing process. He strode up to Liv, not caring to say goodbye to these two.

"Do you mind if I steal you?" he whispered in her ears, putting his hands on her hips.

"Yes, I do," she answered curtly. "It's an interesting conversation!"

Dwalin glared at the lads surrounding her, and they scurried away quickly.

"I said it was an interesting conversation!" she snapped, swirling out of his arms.

"I'm sorry," Dwalin said. "Something came up."

"Isn't it convenient that something always comes up? Am I the lowest item on your agenda?"

"Of course you're not!" The suggestion infuriated him. He wanted to tell her so, but the words didn't come quickly enough.

"Then pray tell me, why am I always the one who ends up waiting, until I get bored? How shall I know that you truly care when you don't show it? Why should I jump every time you're here and why don't you, when I ask you so nicely?"

Dwalin reached for her hand, but she pulled away. His arms fell uselessly to his sides. He had no idea what to say to her: she unsettled him from the moment he'd laid eyes on her. He mistook it for dislike at first: the endless chatter, her inquisitive nature and the random anxious rants grated on his nerves. She sought him out too often, and he always wanted to get away, but his tongue failed him, as he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He couldn't stay blind for long to her redeeming qualities. She was intelligent and brave, confident and resourceful, independent and loyal. She just tried too hard to belong somewhere, to someone, but Dwalin always admired women who knew what they wanted and dared to go for it, and he kept saying yes to her invitations. She was beautiful too, slim, and graceful; her curves fit perfectly into his hands. As she left, he watched the inviting sway of her hips and her long brown hair cascading down her back – he noticed the special hairdo for tonight – and he couldn't forget the disappointment that shone in her usually curiously sparkling hazel eyes.

He used to be good around women. He only messed up when he should be good around her.

* * *

When Kasia signed up for this Spring Tour nonsense, she thought it would be the perfect way to find a rich husband and leave behind the poverty of her birthplace. She thought it would be fun, when the young Durin-prince took a liking to her, but by leaving, he made it clear that it was only fun and nothing more. She also thought it would be fun to tease his brother – Fíli turned out to be confident and clever and caring, all that made him a good king, but he was way too serious, and she had no idea anymore what to think about him. And here she was now, finally acting on her plan to find a rich husband, and _everyone_ was just so _dull._

She had no idea that flirting can be so terribly soul-numbing. They tried to impress her, and oh, she was impressed by their work and earnings, but other than that? She got a glance at what it is like to be around intelligent and exciting guys, so now, she found fault with everyone who would have made her happy half a year before. Those Durin-lads completely ruined her.

Tonight's party promised so much fun though – Alin promised to bring her scandalous once-secret-and-still-sort-of-secret lover, but apparently, _welcoming_ each other after a few days apart took too long. Zaz's repetitive comments told her that her best friend was similarly bored. Lady Dís was still nowhere to be seen, which Kasia found strange. She was also curious if Fíli showed up tonight – he was supposed to return with Alin's lover, and Kasia wanted to see if her friendship with the king can continue, or she managed to ruin it with her brazenness.

The king didn't come, nor did his mother, and even Lady Vera disappeared for a while. Upon her return, she had a hushed up conversation with Erna and Balin. It looked very conspiratorial, and after another comment about 'fine ores down in the mines', she decided to get up and see what was going on.

Vera, Erna and Balin were joined by members of the Company and a random Spring Traveler, Pearl, which made it all the more interesting. They busied themselves around a table, doing something with the food. Kasia was circling them, trying to discover what they were doing. Her spying act was disrupted by a large hand on her shoulder.

"What are you seeing, lass?"

Dwalin's glower couldn't scare her. She could have mumbled an apology and go back to her table, but she decided to take this chance.

"Something is amiss. Can I help?"

Fíli would have _asked_ her to help, but fortunately, Dwalin didn't say no either.

"I guess you can keep your mouth shut?"

Oh, _that,_ she could do, she promised, and soon, Vera explained what she should do.

"We're checking every sort of food for traces of something that turns purple when touched by alcohol."

Kasia blinked, trying to imagine how to do that. Shall she spray the bread with wine? Pour ale into the soup? Or dunk her hand into a cup of the sugary Dorwinion and go pawing at the cookies? Vera's short instruction didn't help much, so she glanced around to see what others were doing. Thankfully, Pearl realized her confusion, and inched closer to her.

"The water is poisoned," she whispered. Kasia nodded, but couldn't hold back a scathing reply. She hated to be seen as the weakest link.

"Aren't we forbidden to talk about it?"

Pearl blushed.

"No, sorry. I just… nevermind."

She looked just as lost as Kasia felt. On a second thought, Kasia realized that she hadn't ever seen Pearl in this company. She'd never really had an opinion on her – Pearl seemed obnoxious at first, but later, she mostly kept to herself. They might as well team up for tonight.

"Show me what we have to do," Kasia relented, as if she was making Pearl a favor by indulging her company. Pearl eagerly complied. At first, she poured a cup of ale, and then, cut a slice from the bread and dipped it in the ale. She repeated it with the roast and the cheese, collecting the tested slices on a plate. She then filled a cup with soup, mixing a little ale in it.

"This is the poison," Pearl presented it with a smile. Kasia gasped: the cup now contained an ugly purple-ish liquid. "That's what we're looking for."

"What kind of poison is this?" she asked, suddenly forgetting that she'd just chided Pearl for sharing too much information.

"We don't know, but it's in the water. Oh, don't drink water! If we find out which food items contain poison, we should collect them from the tables along with the jugs of water. It seems that tonight, we can only drink alcoholic beverages. We're in for a good party!"

Now, Kasia was looking forward to the night again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just who is this Pearl suddenly? Oh, well, she's fine, Thorin checked her out. Next, we'll see how Liv deals with her disappointment, and also, Fíli will need to leave his mother's side for a while. Not the best idea, hm. Read, review and follow! Thanks!


	5. The Evil Eye

**The Evil Eye**

Liv pushed her way through the market place. She knew what attracted the unusual crowd here: everyone noticed the strange new color of the river, but the reason of this change wasn't announced yet.

Last night, she tried to leave unnoticed after seeing that Dwalin was alive and well, but Vera caught her. Being friends with such an influential lady came with a price: Liv was always among the first ones required to assist in any crisis. Thus, despite her antagonistic feelings, she had to spend most of her evening near Dwalin, and what's even worse: she had to admit that Dwalin _again_ had a good reason to miss their meeting.

She knew that he was an important person. She knew that he was close the king and part of the royal family. She knew that he was loyal and reliable, and he wouldn't stand her up just because of a passing fancy or a bout of laziness.

This didn't mean that she wasn't hurt every time when she had to back off and let him do his job.

She wondered if she made the right choice when she decided to court him.

She'd spent a few weeks assessing the characters of every prospective husband in the Lonely Mountain. Unlike most of her travelling companions, she didn't come here with the certainty that she would marry. She only came because Vera asked her, and she was interested to see the famous kingdom. As an architect, she could appreciate its beauty even in this ruined state, and was happy when she was asked to help with the reconstructions. Finally, she wasn't a lowly assistant to a senile, capricious master who was past his prime and stole her ideas, and she loved the recognition.

Loving Dwalin sneaked upon her unnoticed. She wasn't attracted to him at first sight – no, on her first night here, she had too many suitors already to notice someone who stayed in the background. She'd heard a lot about him before actually talking to him: she'd heard that he was attentive and discreet, which intrigued her. Other dwarrowdams seemed to like him immensely, blushing and giggling whenever someone mentioned his name. She wanted to test him, but their first encounter left her with mixed impressions. She approached him again to come to a decision, but he was so reserved! He hated answering any question, and she just didn't get what the others loved so much about him – except for his habit of sleeping around, which Liv understood and accepted, having the same habit. He certainly did a good job in that department.

She decided to ask him what he thought about his popularity. He never talked about his women, and he answered her direct question with this exact phrase, only adding:

"I haven't been with anyone else since being with you."

This answer perplexed her, especially because the same was true on her part. She wondered when they became a couple, but the more she wondered, the more she realized how well they would fit. He was brave, loyal, strong, and patient enough to put up with her. She knew that she had a lot of good traits, but coming to Erebor greatly unsettled her, and finding her place wasn't as easy in her private life as it was professionally. Dwalin somehow grounded her, and she dearly wished to continue this relationship.

She wasn't shy to tell him so.

"You know, if you actually want to marry, you can ask me anytime."

She didn't expect an immediate proposal – to be fair, she expected a downright rejection, or at least an excuse about not taking this seriously – but his answer was as evasive as it could be.

"Good to know," he said.

They'd been postponing the conversation about their future, although she wanted to bring it up several times. She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to marry her if he didn't want to; that she was willing to go on without any change; that she was the most pathetic dwarrowdam ever, and instead of taking her destiny in her own hands, she should just let males come to their conclusions on their own time. However, she couldn't really tell him anything, because he was dragged away to chase criminals, then the interrogations took up his time, then they had a quiet evening, but he was tired and she was just happy to have him for herself. She hoped that the king's absence would give him more free time, but on the contrary: Dís was finding various tasks for him during these days. And now, she fell sick, the river contained poison, and Liv had no idea how long she should wait this time. Or rather, how long she could wait.

Fortunately, a fortuneteller was rumored to be around, so she decided to see if that fateful sentence ruined her life, or was going to grant her eternal happiness.

Not that she believed in such things as foresight! Publicly, at least, since she was an intelligent woman after all – but deep down, she was just a lass who grew up on tales told around the fires on the road in the middle of the night… and she'd learnt that the signs were always there, but not many could read them well.

Maybe she would have luck this time.

The fortuneteller took up residence in the shabbiest stall, away from the regular circulation of traffic, as if she didn't want to be found by clueless passer-bys. Liv pulled the string to signal her arrival, and shortly after the tingling sound of the bell a raspy voice answered:

"Enter!"

She pushed aside the ancient looking, thick curtain, that served as a door. The stall's wooden walls were covered by plushy, patched burgundy carpet, and the light was low, only given by a dozen of strategically placed candles. A strange smell lingered in the air: some sort of perfume or incense, but Liv didn't recognize it. Boxes pushed to the walls served as seats, and exotic accessories and classic tools of a fake-fortuneteller decorated the place. Liv wasn't very impressed by that, but didn't want to pass judgment until she spoke to the dwarrowdam. Most people expected to see these objects at such a place, even though real fortunetellers rarely needed a crystal ball 'to focus their inner eye'.

The dwarrowdam was sitting at the table, apparently reading cards, but as she took a closer look, it turned out to be a simple game to chase away boredom. When she paused to consider her next move, she knocked rhythmically on the cards with her long, claw-like nails.

"Sit down," the fortuneteller said. "I presume you came for advice?"

Liv pursed her lips. She couldn't decide if the question was serious or the fortuneteller merely wanted to remind her of her foresight. The chair – rather stool – creaked under her weight, and she sat straight as a rod in fear of breaking it.

"Yes."

The fortuneteller packed away the cards. She looked ageless: her stringy brown hair and beard was hanging freely. The strict lines and the slight tan on her face suggested that she'd travelled and seen a lot. Her pale blue eyes were disconcerting, and Liv started to fidget. Despite the overstuffed environment, she suddenly believed that this dwarrowdam would see into the darkest pitches of her soul. "You have questions about your private life, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it," she asked, folding her hands on the table.

Liv suddenly felt very flustered. Did she truly come to this stranger for advice? Her problem was that she couldn't keep her mouth shut, and now she wants to solve it by tattling more? Still, as if a dam broke, her first words escaped through her lips and the rest poured out unstoppably.

"I asked my suitor to ask me to marry me, even though he's not my suitor technically, because I chased him and trapped him and I don't even know if he is interested in me at all or I'm just a comfortable solution to scratch an itch, and I made a fool out of myself, and I don't think I should even be here."

She sneaked a glance at the fortuneteller's face. She managed to follow her fast rant, and now calmly considered how to analyze it.

"I don't think you're just a comfortable solution," she answered, "but I think you know that. I also think that your concern isn't baseless. Show me your hand!"

Liv put her right fist on the table, and the fortuneteller took it in her hand. She stretched the fingers and flattened her palm, studying the lines.

"These lines tell me a lot about your life. You don't have to worry about health problems, but you have to pay attention to your job. It may seem easy now, but it's not a clear, straight line. I think it is affected by your love life. See? The two lines have a parallel crack here. It might be happening right now or in the near future."

The prospect scared Liv. The fact that the fortuneteller pointed out the exact pattern somehow gave more weight to her assessment.

"My professional life? Do you mean my job can depend on what I have with Dwalin?"

"Yes," the fortuneteller nodded. "Give me your other hand."

Liv stretched it forward already open. She was anxious to hear more.

"Your love life is a mess here."

Liv followed with her gaze as the fortuneteller traced the line with her nail. The otherwise straight lines made a few twists in the middle on both palms. "It means that you'll have troubles somewhere around the middle of your life, but it will be sorted. As the line straightens, you'll leave behind these problems." The fortuneteller looked up to meet her eyes. "If you're experiencing troubles now, I would say that you're at these twists."

"So I'll just endure for a while and I'll be happy eventually?"

The fortuneteller shook her head.

"No. The straight line only means that your love life will be uneventful. It doesn't say if you'll be with your love or you two steer apart, thus getting rid of the problems."

"So my big mouth really made a mess," Liv sighed, her heart filling with desperation.

"I'm not so sure about that," the fortuneteller said as she leaned back, squinting at her. "You are nervous. You are new here and you don't know if you fit in. You are successful in your job, and you have a distinguished partner, but you didn't make a lot of new friends, did you?"

Liv squirmed under her all-knowing stare. She wasn't equipped to gain female friends; she got on with males easily though.

"Jealousy has followed you since your birth, and it surrounds you now in a larger dose," the fortuneteller continued seriously. "Have you ever considered that this might be dangerous?"

Liv sighed. "No." It was easier to deal with it if she simply ignored it. She paid attention to her friends and her co-workers, and shut her ears otherwise. Mean comments didn't make her less of a person.

"But it is!" the fortuneteller warned her.

Liv stood up in frustration. She wanted to explain that a tongue-lashing meant nothing to her, before leaving in a theatrical manner. She didn't come here for such a stupid advice! Listen to her enemies' words? Why would she do that?

But the fortuneteller continued:

"Have you ever heard of an occurrence called 'evil eye'?"

Liv shook her head.

"The evil eye," the fortuneteller spoke before she could interrupt, "happens when someone attracts too much envy. If you live well, you mustn't to live too well. You don't have to lead a lavish life just because you can, especially not when others suffer around you. If you're greedy and keep everything to yourself, or you're a braggart and boast about your good fortune without consideration for others' feelings, people will dislike you. This dislike might turn into hatred, envy and jealousy. They might wish for your downfall, and as the stronger this wish becomes, it might turn your good luck into misfortune."

Liv stopped her pacing in the middle of her speech, in awe and in fear to hear about such a thing.

"So my unfortunate love life can be caused by someone else's jealousy?" _Instead of my big mouth,_ she added in her mind.

"It's not impossible. If I were you, I would have a good look at the friends you keep."

Liv nodded eagerly, relieved that she now had something to do until Dwalin gets this new situation under control.

* * *

Sometime during the night, Thorin jostled Fíli out of his mother's room. It was no easy feat: the young dwarf was determined to get her through the night by himself.

It wasn't an easy task. Óin arrived and examined her. He was sad to report that her fever had risen, and that he had no cure for something they couldn't identify. Water was the most basic necessity for any treatment: to wash the infection out of the body, to cool the fever, to clean away the sticky sweat; but now he advised not to use any of it. If it was tainted, it could aggravate her more, even if it only touched her skin. He also forbade using alcohol, because the change of color might indicate an intense reaction, which shouldn't take place inside the body. He promised to round up some sort of juice, and they would check the other water resources inside the mountain. If they are clean, he will send some, but until then, Fíli had no means to soothe her pain.

Dís was tossing around in her bed. Her body was on fire and she ached everywhere. She threw up twice, and had nothing left in her stomach for the third time.

Fíli found out that his voice was his strongest weapon in this fight. As he recounted stories from their past, he managed to draw her attention away from her pain. It wasn't much and his throat was getting dry, but it was the least he could do for her.

Then Thorin came and ruined everything.

He strode into the room as if he was the Mighty King of All. He admonished Fíli for not resting.

"You are the king, you should care more for your own safety. You aren't doing any good by getting yourself sick too," he said.

Fíli didn't deem this comment worthy of an answer.

"There are many of us who would be willing to sit with her, we can take turns and you can get some sleep, and take care of your business."

"No."

Thorin couldn't shut up. He started to ramble about duties and tasks, and Fíli growled again:

"I said no!"

He felt Thorin's clammy hand on his shoulder. In the same moment, Dís squeezed his hand.

"Get out, Thorin. She's not well."

"No," Thorin argued, " _you_ get out! Balin and Dwalin are waiting for you outside."

Thorin tried to forcefully remove him, but he was less successful than Dwalin a few hours earlier. Fíli resisted, but when his mother pulled her hand away and turned to the wall, sniffing and trying to suppress her pained moans, he gave up.

"You're making her feel worse!" he spat out, and left.

Dwalin and Balin were talking quietly when he found them. Pity shone in Balin's eyes. He patted a chair, and Fíli reluctantly took his seat. If he couldn't comfort his mother, then he could at least learn what truly happened. Maybe he can make Dwalin see reason, and they would let him go back.

"Something is in the river. The lass said we should pour something alcoholic in it, so everyone would see that something's wrong. She said that if we go further up, we may find where the contamination starts. She wanted to go immediately, but I sent her to sleep first."

"We are checking every water source. So far, every other well is clear, although they alone won't support the whole mountain for long," Balin spoke up. "The population is growing too quickly, and we can't bring in water from outside. We sent word to Dale too. The messenger came back with the news that it had already reached the city, and Bard was… taking precautions."

Fíli nodded.

"Wake the lass and start the search now," he ordered.

Balin and Dwalin exchanged a serious look.

"Fíli, surely we can do more after we have rested. The deed is done. We will have a rough day tomorrow, and we all need to be at our best."

"Amad is having a rough time now!" Fíli argued. "She needs the water."

"No. She needs you to think it through," Dwalin stated. "Go to sleep! We've done what could be done. The food stores have been checked and cleared. Bofur and Bombur are in charge of coloring the tainted water. Óin is looking for a cure. The lass needs sleep, because we need her brain sharp. You need sleep, because you'll have to tell something to the people in the morning. Damn it, even I need some sleep!" he finished, slamming his fist on the table.

Fíli tried to argue his point further: Amad found _his_ voice soothing, they had an unbreakable bond, they'd always stuck together! There was no better person than him to watch over her, and she would agree, had she been lucid; but he was choking up on his words.

"But Amad…"

"You can't help her by making yourself sick. Let Thorin sit over her a little. She's his sister, and he deserves some time to worry about her. Don't make it harder than it is."

Fíli finally relented.

In the morning, they only allowed him a short visit. They pushed some food down his throat, but he had no recollection of actually chewing and swallowing the bites. They also brought him water – apparently, Balin and Glóin were busy to work out rations for everyone. Fíli wanted to give his cup of health to Amad. The others tried to dissuade him, but apparently time was of the essence, and he protested long enough. Amad was greedily gulping down every drop, and according to Óin, even this small amount gave her body more strength to fight off whatever tormented her. For some reason, out of all dwarves affected, she seemed to be in the worst condition.

Despite claiming that 'time was of the essence', Balin insisted that Fíli must change into his full regalia for the announcement. Fíli found it a waste of time, and by the time he arrived at the Ruby Hall, which he used as his throne room, he was in a foul mood. The large crowd that gathered there only made it worse.

"They all came to gawk and act outraged!" he sneered before walking up to the dais.

"They have a right to do that. Their life is in danger," Balin, ever the diplomat, supplied.

"They have a duty to help, but we both know that they won't move a finger! We are going to do the hard work, while they pettily whine about their disrupted daily routine!"

Balin made a disappointed gesture. He probably regretted that it wasn't Thorin standing in Fíli's place.

"You're the one whining here," Dwalin said, poking him between the ribs. "Go! Speak!"

The speech was disastrous.

"The river is poisoned," Fíli announced, after gaining the crowd's attention. His words caused loud protestation and expressions of fear. He held up a hand and continued in the briefest manner: "If you don't drink purple water, you'll be fine. Don't use it for any type of washing or cleaning either. It might be used in the forges or to extinguish fire, but we're not sure. Well, just stay away from the river! We are rationing water from the wells we've been using until half a year ago. We won't tolerate any tricks to go beyond your portion. Thank you for your understanding," he finished, and left the Hall in a hurry.

If he had stayed, he would have seen that there was no trace of understanding. His short, almost uncaring instructions raised questions which he usually answered patiently, but now, swift scare-mongers took it to themselves to elaborate on the situation. Soon, talismans and portents appeared on the market and even on random corridors, and prices reached an unprecedented high for ale, wine, and even some sorts of food. Dwarves invaded the already overstrained infirmary, for treatment of so far undetected stomach bug or skin rashes, and many demanded aid or compensation from the king.

Fíli didn't care. The cartographer apparently woke early, and she was working with Bofur and Bombur. She worked out a plan to go higher and higher, employing guards to carry up kegs of beer. She'll send word when she finds something.

As he'd done what was required and notified the people of the new danger, he decided that he could go and sit with Amad now. Not even Thorin with his patronizing attitude can get him away from her until there was anything more useful to be done! He shed his regal symbols, dropping them as he moved across Amad's chambers, and carefully eased open the door.

"I'm back, Thorin!" he said, his tone making it obvious that his uncle's presence wasn't needed anymore.

To his confusion, not one, but two tall, dark-haired dwarves turned to look at him from beside the bed.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hm, two dwarves in Dís' room, I wonder who that is… Any guesses?

Poor Fíli hasn't had it easy so far, and he's not making it easier for himself (and others) either… Perhaps he's affected by the evil eye too? If you're wondering, the 'evil eye' (malocchio) is actually a real superstition, originating from Southern Italy. Be careful!

To **T.O.W.G:** You can take Thorin's word for it, but the others are keeping an eye on her. She'll return later, and we'll see this stalker of hers too. They've done tests with different types of alcohol, remember? Even from unopened bottles, so it's unlikely that the poison is in the booze. ;) Poor Reika, she has such a difficult name, everyone has trouble with it! Thanks for the review!


	6. Quick and Balanced

**Quick and Balanced**

"Nadad!" Kíli leaped immediately to close his older brother in a tight embrace. He hung on to him as if his life depended on him. If Fíli was here, then everything would be alright; Fíli always made sure of it.

Fíli carefully removed the arms from around his neck, so he could look at him. Kíli's face twitched: one part of him wanted to grin, but he remembered their mother's state.

Fíli didn't speak, and the silence started to stretch uncomfortably long.

"I'm back!" Kíli stated the obvious, with a faint smile.

Fíli acknowledged it with a nod, but still wouldn't speak. Kíli's next question would have been 'How are you?', but the answer was clear by looking at his brother.

Fíli wasn't well at all.

His blank expression told Kíli that he tried to keep it together, but the slight frown he wore spoke of how hard he needed to focus. Fíli stood rigidly, and Kíli looked at Thorin, who caught his silent suggestion.

"I'll leave you to talk," he said and left without further acknowledging Fíli.

Fíli didn't even look at their uncle. Kíli wondered if they were fighting again – it wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

 _About thirty years ago_

Kíli didn't really enjoy his apprenticeship at the forge: the airless hole suffocated him, the constant noise was still ringing in his ears hours after he left, and he always had to pay attention to where he put his foot. Forging in itself was fine, but he knew that he'd never be the most renowned master smith. The weapons he liked, but since he was clumsier than the rest, producing nails and such small, simple objects was his usual task.

He preferred the wilderness.

Fíli, on the other hand, thrived in the forge, just as well as he excelled in everything else. Anything he touched turned to gold. He was the perfect heir to Thorin, and the only one who didn't see it was – guess who – Fíli himself.

Kíli didn't understand him at all. As if he purposefully misunderstood Uncle: he took every praise as dismissal, and turned every word of encouragement into criticism. True, Uncle wasn't very effusive, but…

"Hi Mum, is dinner ready?" he shouted, as he entered. He took off his dirty boots, and happily noticed that it wasn't the only pair there. "Uncle! Master Dwalin! Master Balin!"

Indeed, the rare visitors were sitting around the table, loudly recalling their adventures. They quickly filled a cup for Kíli too, who promised to join them after freshening up a little.

On the way to his room, he noticed Fíli sitting alone in the garden.

"Oi, Fee! What's up?" he said as he plopped down next to his brother.

Fíli flinched, but kept his gaze firmly on the old dagger he was sharpening.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you not inside?

"I'm cleaning my weapons."

He said it as if it explained his solitude, but Kíli failed to see the connection.

"Come on! Let's come in!" he invited him, and Fíli let out a frustrated sigh.

"If I go, will you stop pestering me?"

Kíli grinned. Fíli joined them, and while he made faces whenever Thorin commented on anything related to Longhaven, he didn't start an argument. He didn't like when Thorin tried to tell them how to take care of things in his absence. He only spoke when necessary, but when everyone stood up to lit up a pipe and continue the reunion outside, he couldn't help himself anymore.

"Don't lift those heavy plates, your arms might get torn off by the weight," he grumbled under his breath

Thorin gave him a stern look. "Did you just say something?"

"Nope, go on, don't worry about giving Amad extra work!"

"Your mother can stand up for herself, if she thinks she needs it," Thorin declared.

To avoid Fíli's lecturing, Kíli made a show of picking up his own plate, and put it on the counter. Fíli was scowling as the others left.

"Let it go," Mum said, squeezing Fíli's shoulder.

"Must they always leave behind such a mess? Don't they see that you've got enough to do?"

Instead of answering, she started to clean the table, and Fíli stayed to help. Kíli followed the others before they find him a task too: why didn't Fíli see that Mum was a lot more lenient when their cousins were here? Life was a lot more fun at these times.

They sat down outside. Dwalin started a story about a tavern brawl, where Balin was mistaken for another dwarf who'd cheated one of the regulars out of some money, when Fíli barged out, and walked past them without a word.

"Where are you going, nephew?" Thorin called after him.

Fíli slowed, but didn't turn.

"Out."

"Out where?"

They never got an answer for that question.

Balin shook his head. "The lad is so unruly these days," he said.

"I don't know what to do with him lately," Thorin mused. "Was I right to make him my heir so early? He seems to think that he can order us around."

"Eh, he's just developing a mind of his own," Dwalin said. "He's no worse than others at his age."

"I certainly hope so," Thorin sighed.

"He should be better than others at his age," Balin added. "He should be setting a good example."

Kíli felt that he should defend his brother.

"He's setting a good example! He's just showing it very poorly when you're here."

"Maybe there's a lass. He's soon at that age too," Dwalin said, wriggling his eyebrows.

Kíli had to laugh. Fíli and a lass? No way.

* * *

 _Now_

Fíli had always stood up for their mother, even when she didn't need it. In return, he was Mum's favorite out of the whole extended family. Kíli wasn't jealous – he needed a different kind of attention, and enjoyed his relative freedom from her scrutiny. Mum also helped Fíli to deal with the pressure of being the heir to the throne, and Fíli often took advantage of her greater experience since living in Erebor.

He'd always made fun of how much time Fíli spent with Mum, but if seeing her like this scared him, he couldn't even imagine what Fíli was going through.

"She's sleeping. She's been calm ever since I arrived," he said, standing aside to let his brother check the verity of these statements. Fíli kneeled down and took her hand in his, looking for the pulse on her wrist.

"Imagine my surprise when I strolled into the Mountain – I wasn't expecting fanfares, mind you, but to sneak in completely unnoticed? That stung. Then I heard that you're making some kind of speech, so I decided that my news could wait until after that – you know how I hate official posing – and came to see if Mum was here." He sighed, not quite able to describe how stricken he felt hearing the news of her illness; especially since he was bringing news of his own, a happier one too.

Fíli touched his forehead to hers.

"She won't know that you're here – Thorin and I think that she's pretty out of it."

"I'm feeling out her temperature," Fíli said through gritted teeth. "Her hands are ice cold, but she's feverish. Get me some water!"

"But – from where? We've already used up her ration for the day."

"Then get yours!"

Kíli was baffled. "I've already drunk that. I was thirsty. We arrived at Dale late in the night."

"Mahal, Kee, you've been back for like, five minutes, and it's already about you!" Fíli barked out unexpectedly. "Can't you see that Amad is sick?"

"Now, that's mean! I've just arrived, I had no idea that something was wrong!" Kíli drew his brows together. What had gotten into his brother in the last months? "I want to help! She's my mother too!"

"Then why do you forget it so often?!"

Kíli didn't understand, but seeing his brother's fury, he didn't dare to annoy him with further questions. Fíli went on anyway.

"Do you have any idea how anxious you made her by leaving so abruptly? She had no idea where you went and why! Have you no thought for anyone but yourself?"

"That's not…" _true,_ he wanted to say, but Fíli didn't let him interrupt his quiet tirade.

"She was constantly asking questions, and I couldn't tell her anything, because she'd have worried even more. I was packing a bag to go looking for you, and take you a spellstone! You know how important these things are for her! Had I left an hour earlier, I wouldn't even know that she's unwell!"

Kíli frowned.

"You'd be a lot calmer then," he said drily. "Why did it take you so long to come after me, anyway? Or why did you not tell her? Because Tauriel is an elf and you didn't want to burden her with my shameful behavior?"

"Perhaps so!" Fíli snapped.

"I'm sorry, but she'll know anyway, because Tauriel is here with me!"

Fíli glared at him. "That cannot be true!"

"It is!"

"Did you bring her inside the mountain?" he whispered, paling visibly. Kíli shook his head. "Good. Don't bring her here."

"What do you mean by that?" Out of his brother's hurtful comments today, this was the meanest. Kíli truly believed that Fíli would understand, that he would grant them a place and a respectable living here, or maybe he would help arranging something in Dale… It seemed he was sorely mistaken.

"I mean that you should get back to her," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, which he often did when he was trying to keep a calm countenance. Kíli had no wish to learn exactly how volatile Fíli's temper could be, if he was still holding back. "You're not helping here. Get out! Be useless somewhere else!"

Kíli really took his brother's words to heart. Thorin was waiting for him in the sitting room, discussing their agenda with Balin.

"He's gone completely mental!" Kíli burst out helplessly.

"That's exactly what Balin said as well," Thorin replied darkly. Balin's sad eyes confirmed this. "His public speech caused quite an upheaval. Our people are running around like headless chickens, buying fake talismans and spreading the fake news that their king went mad."

"Maybe it isn't fake news," Kíli suggested.

"To be fair, he's very attached to Dís."

"It's an explanation for his behavior, Thorin, not an excuse. Maybe we should leave him with her for the time being. I know that she's your sister, and your mother too," he turned his gaze to Kíli for a moment, "and we all are worried, but I fear that Fíli's lack of self-control will do even more harm."

Both dwarves agreed.

"There are things to do though," he continued, feeling uncomfortable to bring it up, "and some dwarves are petitioning for compensation. They want to see what we are doing to resolve the situation, and they want it now."

"Yeah, but if we make Fíli deal with them…" Kíli didn't finish the sentence. He had no idea what Fíli would do. He'd never seen this cruel version of his brother.

"We shouldn't force Fíli to deal with them," Thorin declared. "I can do that."

Balin was humming, not quite sure how to express his disagreement and Kíli hid his smile behind his hand. Thorin always took his time: he patiently heard out everyone, made his own inquiries and checked every fact twice before coming to a decision.

"A lot of people are scared, Thorin," Balin said. "We have to act quickly."

Kíli snickered quietly as Uncle frowned.

"I can act quickly!"

"No, you really not," Kíli said.

Fíli or Dís were the ones for this role. They could make considerate decisions in mere moments, which appeased everyone and put little strain on anyone. Thorin had to take his time to make peace with his conscience and pride, and Kíli… well, he was good at the 'quick' part, but less so with 'balanced' or 'considerate', and he usually changed his mind when the other party came up with new arguments.

"Still, I would only trust you with the important decisions," Balin concluded, looking at Thorin askance. "People listen to you. They will do what you ask of them."

* * *

Most people did indeed listen to Thorin, but there was one key figure in this whole mess who refused to cooperate with just any busybody. She loved her independence too much, and she couldn't tolerate when outsiders tried to stick their noses in her business and tried to tell her what to do.

Alas, neither Thorin, nor Balin had the good sense to shut their mouth in time; that's why Dwalin spent the whole morning placating a disgruntled Reika and reassign some tasks to people whom she was willing to work with – and he had to intervene several times later in the day.

They should've given more support to her, but instead, she was thoroughly questioned first thing in the morning by Balin. Dwalin swiftly put a stop to it, when he found out.

"This is the lass who brought Dís here, or did you forget that?" he said, glaring at his brother.

"That's not the point. We need to establish that she is qualified to lead such an operation…" Balin started with his half-assed excuses, but Dwalin cut in.

"She's qualified! She's been working on rediscovering the mountain with the expert team for a year now, she knows the place better than anyone!"

"Her credentials are lacking…"

"Her credentials! What's wrong with her credentials?" The lass was conspicuously keeping her head down. Dwalin knew what was wrong with them: she rarely put her name on her work, preferring to keep a low profile, and being a part of a team allowed her as much anonymity as she wanted. Dwalin turned to the so far silent person in the room. "Her boss is here; remind me, Master Brohn, why haven't you clarified it yet?"

Master Brohn was gaping, and Dwalin fixed the pompous dwarf with a pointed glare before he managed to say something stupidly irrelevant.

Balin made another weak attempt to defend his behavior.

"We have to make sure that she is able to deal with such a huge responsibility…"

"Bah, that's your job, Brother," Dwalin waved it off. "She knows what to do, and we have to ensure that it gets done."

"Again, you give proof of your overly simplistic view of life," Balin sighed. "We can't just…"

"We can't just sit around and argue about politics. The lass is capable, let her do the job!"

Master Brohn wanted to argue – probably, he viewed himself as the ultimate expert and wanted to take the lead and the glory – but he backed off under Dwalin's continued glaring. For good measure, Dwalin placed his hand on Reika's shoulder to show his support.

"Just say a number and you'll get as many dwarves under your command!"

The lass blushed. She wanted to protest, but Dwalin wouldn't have it.

"You know Bombur, don't you?"

She nodded. Of course she knew him: Bombur's daughter, Kora, and sister-in-law, Maren traveled with Dís, under Reika's guidance. Bombur was very grateful for seeing his daughter here and well, he must have invited Reika over a couple of times. He'd be the perfect ally for this endeavor: if he extended his fatherly protectiveness to his daughter's friend, no words would be uttered against the lass.

Bombur proved to be the perfect baby-sitter: the lass was clever, but too independent. She wasn't used to enforcing her will at all. At first, she had to be reminded to give tasks to others, and then she forgot to check if they were doing it right or doing it at all, but Bombur kept calling her over to look at this and that, and soon, she realized his purpose. She started giving out orders, hesitantly at first, but grew bolder thanks to Bombur's firm backing.

They worked out an effective system. Reika knew the spots where they could comfortably reach the river and establish a base for pouring beer (as the cheapest alcoholic beverage) into the water. If it still caused discoloration, they moved upwards and tried again, packing up their equipment when the purple stream reached their previous base. They progressed quickly, especially when the guards granted for her realized that there was no slacking off under Bombur's watchful eyes.

However, when Thorin joined them, Dwalin had to make an appearance again.

Bombur's daughter, Kora was delivering messages for the team, and had the good sense to make a detour for fetching Dwalin to the scene.

When he arrived, he let out a stream of rude Khuzdul words, as he saw a similar interrogation as a few hours ago, Thorin replacing Balin this time.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dwalin barked out. Bombur was helplessly shuffling his feet, turning red. Apparently, standing up to Thorin was too much to ask.

"Dwalin! Finally!" Thorin greeted him, annoyed. "Balin told me that you insisted on allowing Rita to lead the search for the poison, but I'm starting to think that we are the victims of an elaborate joke!"

Dwalin scratched his head. Thorin looked conflicted, trying his best to remain calm, and the lass was batting her lashes innocently, while Bombur opened and closed his mouth twice, before deciding not to speak. Dwalin wondered if he wanted to correct Thorin about the lass' name; Thorin consistently called her Rita since she arrived, and she never called him out on his mistake. Still, Dwalin wondered if she felt offended, and he knew that soon, he'll have to talk to Thorin about it. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. Thorin used to take his criticism in stride, especially when the hard words were chased with beer and easy banter, but lately, they were leading so different lives, and Dwalin wasn't sure how to do 'easy banter' with him anymore.

"Are we?" he mumbled, shooting a glare at Reika. The lass was looking too innocent.

"He's asking me questions. I'm answering them."

Well, that was problematic. Last night, Thorin was impressed by the numerous scenarios she drew up in one go, but if she kept telling him about the endless possibilities… well, she had that talk with Dwalin last night. Dwalin told her that he didn't want to hear a thing until she had solid proof. Thorin, on the other hand, loved theories.

"She keeps saying that she doesn't know the answers!" Thorin exclaimed. "How can we trust her to solve this if she has no idea what she's doing?"

Dwalin shook his head, and shot another stern glare at the lass. She stopped pretending innocence, and simply shrugged, as if saying that he deserved it.

"And she won't find any answers if you hold her up by questioning everything," he said, putting a soothing hand on Thorin's shoulder, so he could strong-arm him into leaving if he wouldn't come on his own volition.

Fortunately, he did, and was willing to give Reika the benefit of doubt.

"Is there any progress with Pearl and her stalker?" Dwalin asked, to change the topic. After checking the food last night, the party went on in the Courting Hall, but since Liv was giving him the cold shoulder, Dwalin decided to retire early.

Thorin made a noncommittal sound.

"Is she a fraud after all?" Dwalin asked, sighing. Thorin and ladies were just an awkward thing, let's leave it at that. His otherwise sensible mind failed to notice even the most obvious manipulations, thanks to his mistaken definition of respecting dwarrowdams. Not to mention, Pearl was a pretty little thing, although Dwalin personally found her too delicate and obnoxious.

"No!" Thorin answered, appalled. He opened his mouth to continue, but thought better, and shut it back. He turned away and finally managed to squeeze out an acceptable answer. "He didn't show his face last night."

Dwalin had a strange feeling that Thorin was embarrassed. He would've liked to ask, but this wasn't the time for teasing, and he had no idea if it would go through as a joke.

They talked about what measures they should take. They surrounded the clean wells with guards, and they placed many of them in the corridors too. Fíli's short announcement created more questions than answers, and some opportunistic dwarves tried to fill in the holes. Fake stories were going around, and unsavory figures started selling talismans and protective items against evil spirits. Even the dragon's name came up. Some blamed the humans living nearby, which was plainly unacceptable, and anyone caught spreading that tale was immediately arrested, just like anyone who suddenly developed magical protective abilities. They put Glóin in charge of the complaints, since many were petitioning for compensation. Their best bet to get out of it with the least possible loss was him: he didn't like to part with his money, and he wasn't at all affected by sob stories without evidence.

Since Kíli was back, Dwalin immediately put him to work. Balin and Thorin tried to interrogate him about his absence, even though he clearly didn't want to reveal anything. (Even if Fíli's secrecy in the past months didn't give them a clue, Kíli's angry objections should have.) Dwalin immediately dismissed him to 'take care of the relationship with Dale'. The daft kid started on about how he wasn't the right person for that, until he caught on that it was his way out.

"Do I really have to go to Dale?" he asked Dwalin, when they got rid of the other two.

"Yes."

"But what should I do there?"

"Pick flowers and sing a song!" Dwalin growled. "What do you think? Ask Bard if you can be of any help, or I don't know. Balin can help you out, you can still catch him if you really want some advice!"

The lad chose to be creative on his own. Dwalin dearly hoped he wouldn't provoke a war.

He went down to the dungeons to see how many dwarves were arrested. To his relief, there weren't more than a dozen. To his surprise, he didn't find but one guard down here. Just as he was going to bring it up, he felt something small – an apple seed – hitting his head. He looked around angrily, suspecting the criminals behind bars, but another seed landed right in front of his boots. He'd seen now which direction it came from, and his gaze found the barred window a level higher.

A flight of narrow stairs led up there. He watched carefully where to put his feet on the crooked steps, while constantly watching out for spider webs. It didn't awake good memories, and when he met with Nori's grinning face, he almost cursed him down for this insipid joke.

"I found my cell!" Nori declared. Dwalin looked confused. "You promised me that I can choose a cell and you'll lock me up, I'll just have to ask. I'll choose this cell," he explained.

Dwalin growled. Nori's strange excitement was completely out of place, considering the day's events.

"I can hear everything from up here!" he whispered.

Now, that was finally interesting.

"And what did you hear?"

Nori shook his head. "The lark doesn't sing anymore. Too bad; it was pretty, but she doesn't like the crowd, unlike the guard. He whistles, but can't give justice to the melody."

"That's nonsense," Dwalin said. "You should make yourself useful."

"I am useful!" Nori said, arranging his apple seeds in a new pattern. "I watch the guard. He's alone since last night. I hope he doesn't have to take a double-shift. I worry for his health."

"Bless your tender heart!" Dwalin murmured, contemplating the new information. "Fine, stay here. Someone should watch the prisoners, if he falls asleep. I'll see if I can send someone down, but we are a little short on manpower." The guards seemed to be more affected by the poisoning than the average population. While only a few was feverish like Dís, a lot were unfit to serve.

The third time he had to intervene on Reika's behalf, the lass found him, dragging a sulking Kora with her.

"She can't run messages for us anymore!"

The passionate outburst surprised Dwalin. Did they have a fallout? They were supposed to be friends, but now Reika was tapping her foot impatiently, looking determined, while Kora firmly kept her eyes on the ground.

"I won't move an inch further up until she's running up and down there!"

Dwalin shortly contemplated the situation. Should he ask…? Of course he should.

"What happened?"

"It's too dangerous for her. We move on uncleared surface."

Kora's face reddened. Something was amiss, but he didn't have the time and the energy to get to the bottom of it. He had a soft spot for the little lass anyway, and he protected her all day, what's one more decision in her favor? His gut feeling said that she wouldn't ask out of a passing fancy.

"Fine. Get her to Glóin, he needs help."

Reika left wearing a smug smile, while Kora's shoulders sagged.

The day was busily spent, and Dwalin was looking forward to the end of it. Thorin called them together to shortly review the situation just before dinnertime.

For a while, he tried to sit straight, but soon he started to nod off. He'd forgotten how long Thorin's 'short' usually lasted. He'd already heard everything

He rested his cheek on his palm, finding the perfect balance on the table with his elbow, and closed his eyes. Despite Thorin's insistence to remain visible and show the people that life was almost normal, he wouldn't stay at the party in the Courting Hall. He'd find the one person he wanted to spend time with; maybe she'd be more lenient tonight. Liv hated drunkards and now the Mountain was full of them, since many used the lack of water as an excuse to consume ale excessively. He hoped that she'd accept the comfort he offered – otherwise, he'd have a long way to go to get back on her good side.

* * *

 **A/N:** First of all: sorry for the long wait! I didn't give up on the story, in fact, I'm making progress, but I found myself in a horrible plot-knot. (Is that a word? It is now.) I have several scenes written that will come later in the story, and I have to get them in the right order, checking if I'm giving the right pieces of information in the right places. I think I'll stick to weekly updates until the story is completely put together.

to **Emrfangirl:** Yup, it's Kíli. I think Liv was too stunned to react to Dwalin's answer - but we're going to see more of them, as well as the suspicious fortuneteller ;) Thanks for the review!


	7. Damaging Words

**Damaging Words**

The red haze of fury completely evaporated when he heard the door click shut behind Kíli. He had no idea why he was so cruel to his little brother, and he already regretted his words. He was happy to have him back, because he missed him fiercely, and although Kíli was really stupid way too often, Fíli loved him, and had no idea why he'd lashed out just right now.

Did his recent fights with Thorin make him so belligerent? No, those never really affected him before; they always worked out their differences without causing collateral damage – like hurting Kíli. He shortly considered going after him, but with the fury, the strength left him too. Kíli wouldn't leave until there was news about Amad anyway, and she needed someone by her side in case she woke up and needed something.

Amad didn't stir. She was truly 'pretty out of it', and seeing her like this made Fíli feel even more helpless, powerless – desperate.

He wanted to call out to her, to say something nice or just let her know that he was here, but his throat tightened, and no word found a way out. He only grasped her hand and shut his eyes, willing away all the bad things that had happened in the last couple of days, but alas, it only pushed his imagination to run wild with worst-case scenarios. He slowly collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, looking for comfort by touching his forehead on the back of her lifeless hand.

Thorin and the others had it all wrong; even Flor, who always tried to get him more independent.

No one believed that he wasn't hiding, that the relationship between mother and son wasn't one-sided. No one believed that it was a deep, unwavering, unbreakable alliance built on trust and acceptance; the result of quiet conversations on many long nights that they spent with tedious work, without anyone else for company. They didn't need to share everything, they didn't doubt each other, they didn't argue. They didn't demand explanations or required certain actions or an amount of time to prove their loyalty to each other. Still, their family was convinced that they only teamed up to overpower someone else for fun.

Kíli often teased him about being 'Mum's favorite', but he simply had no idea. He stuck to petty quarrels about cleaning his room and appropriate breakfast foods, and had no idea what lied beyond that. Thorin's whole life was determined by formalities and the pressure of appearing strong and unfailing. Approaching someone as openly as Fíli talked to Dís never even occurred to him. It seemed that Dwalin was the closest to understand them, but he preferred to keep his thoughts to himself and didn't look for reciprocity.

They balanced each other – Fíli added the power, and Dís created the stability. No wonder he felt so lost now.

Óin said that there was no cure, unless they found the substance that caused her sickness. The small amount of water they could spare wasn't enough to help her, and she looked a lot worse than in the morning. Fíli couldn't help wondering what will happen if their attempts to find the poison are futile – Óin said nothing about that option, but it was painfully clear to him, seeing her quickly deteriorating state.

She'll die.

 _She can't die._

His general disposition always urged him to act, but there was nothing he could do now. He hated having no power to right the wrong that had happened. They might run out of time, after all, and there was so much to do, and nothing, really, since they depended on a nameless dwarrowdam, who may or may not be committed enough to get the task done.

 _No, she's committed,_ Fíli corrected himself again. She liked his mother. She knew what she was doing. The whole mountain could crumble and she'd build it back.

 _The whole mountain could crumble, and I wouldn't even care,_ Fíli mused. They were running out of time. There was nothing he could do. He'd already caused enough damage.

There was no cure until they found the poison, and there was no news about the search. He couldn't ease her pain and he was alone, and there was no hiding behind his mother's skirts.

He had no chance to slow down the whirlwind of his dark thoughts, and he found little comfort in the panic. In the end, his emotional exhaustion knocked him out. If sleeping on the ground, crouched next to her bed wasn't uncomfortable enough in itself, his state of mind denied him the much needed restful sleep too.

* * *

Kasia hated her job; there was no nicer way to put it. She'd found employment in an expensive dress-shop as a janitor – she started her days early, cleaning up the mess left behind from the day before by the time the shop opened at midday. Her services weren't required after that: her employer found her too common to meet as fashionable ladies as their customers. She only took this job because she needed the money. She'd hoped to get a look at the latest fashion, but as it turned out, she was forbidden to look at actual designs, in case she decided to steal the ideas. As if she could afford such luxurious fabrics! The dresses they sold were quite impractical anyway. She dearly wished to find something better. Perhaps a place where they didn't treat her as dirt… but at home, she needed no qualifications or recommendations, and without them, most doors were shut in her face here.

When her employer had a bad day, she usually took it out on her. Rationed water qualified for a bad day, and Kasia pressed her lips together to prevent saying something that would get her released. She told herself on the way home that things would soon take a turn for the better, that she would get a new job and find her rich husband, but her spirits were lower than ever.

She ran into Alin and Nori on the corridor. Alin was leaning against the wall, her lover playing with her pretty locks. They were a hair-width away from making out. Kasia suddenly found the cozy scene upsetting. She cleared her throat, and the lovebirds jumped apart. They still weren't very open about their relationship.

"Kasia! How was your day?" Alin greeted her cheerfully.

Kasia put on a fake smile. She wasn't in the mood for her happiness today, but apparently, here was the end of the bliss for Alin too. She was asked to help Glóin by keeping the dissatisfied merchants in line until he can record their complaints.

"Don't you want to come too?" she asked hopefully.

Kasia really didn't want to, but a secret sense urged her to say yes. Staying on her feet for hours on end after her tiring morning didn't really appeal to her, yet…

"Do I get something for it?"

"A thank you, maybe? Or do you want a royal plaque?" Nori asked, impertinently raising an eyebrow, which made her temper rise. She was surprised that he addressed her at all, but did he really have to mock her?

"What would I do with a royal plaque? I was thinking of money," she replied, hands on hips, tilting her head expectantly.

"Do you need money to serve your king?"

"Well, that would be a nice recognition of my efforts!" she said, preparing herself for a rejection.

"I think we can work out something!" Nori stretched out his arm for a handshake, and smirked as Kasia grabbed it. "Glóin drives a hard bargain, but he's more likely to give in to your demand than the others."

Thus, half an hour later, Kasia found herself a temporary new job. Nori slipped away by the time the lasses got their instructions, not telling where. She wondered if she could quit the dress shop now – Glóin was paying her the same amount as she earned in a month in the shop, for a day's work! He grumbled and called her a few unkind names, but only to remind her that money wasn't to be wasted for naught.

After being so fierce about her payment, she felt a little guilty about being so idle in the next hours. Their only task was to maintain the peace in the waiting room, and Kasia spent most of the time lounging in a soft armchair.

Her best friend, Zaz visited her briefly too, hearing that she'd volunteered to help the king.

"I thought we didn't like him again?" she asked, confused.

Kasia rolled her eyes. "It's only Kíli we don't like. We still like Fíli. It was my fault, not his."

"But you're here and he's not, so it's easier to blame him," Zaz shrugged. "Are you trying to get back in his good graces?"

"Mahal, no! I'm getting paid for this."

"I hope they pay a lot," Zaz said, scrunching her nose seeing the crowd.

Even if she did very little, she deserved payment for the contempt she had to face. These rich and important dwarves thought as little of her as her boss in the dress shop. They were a little more accommodating with Alin, due to her sweet composure and refined manners. Thus, Kasia mostly watched out for arguments and new arrivals, and talked with Kora, who joined them later. She'd known her from the Spring Tour events, but never really took the time to extend her friendship to the surly young lass before.

As far as she could tell, the dwarves who came to complain had no reason to complain at all: they were rich merchants, owners of lucrative forges and the like. It wasn't like the loss of one day's income would hurt them in the long-term.

One of them, she found quite irritating, because the dirty old pig just couldn't keep his mouth shut. He was swaying as he stood there, shifting his considerable weight from one leg to the other constantly. Kasia watched with disdain as he rubbed his beard, to show off the numerous rings on his fingers – even the King wore less jewelry! – and constantly tugged on his clothes, to draw attention to their fine quality and his bulging stomach. Kora whispered to her that this was a very influential mine-leader, but Kasia couldn't care less. The dwarf looked like he'd never set his foot in a real mine.

She kept shooting him dirty looks, but the dwarf was going on about his great losses caused by the unreliable security. He was boasting about his flourishing business, and berated his employees, who must have something to do with this sorry state of the Mountain, and despite Kora's hushed protests, Kasia decided to end his tirade.

"Excuse me, can you please lower your voice?"

The dwarf didn't acknowledge her at all. Usually, she wasn't affected by the opinion of strangers, but since coming to Erebor, she found herself increasingly insecure. She used to be the queen of their little village in the Iron Hills, and everyone tried to impress her. Here, she was a nobody, and everyone tried to remind her of that, even unknowingly.

"Sorry, Mister, I didn't know that you're hard of hearing!" she said loudly, patting his shoulder. The fat dwarf almost lost his balance as he turned around; he did not anticipate that anyone would be bold enough to approach him just like that. "Please lower your voice, unless you have information that concerns everyone in the room…"

The dwarf's face reddened, as he puffed himself up to retort.

"Hush, chit, you have no idea about my losses!" he cut in.

Kasia pouted; his haughty, derisive tone did not endear him further to her.

"Perhaps so, which means that I have more to complain about!"

The dwarf wanted to get rid of her by simply turning his back on her, but by now, they had everyone's attention, and Kasia wouldn't let it end with her humiliation.

"See, I may know nothing about the amount of money and the luxurious products on what you can't put your fleshy hands today, but if you can count your losses and harass others about your lack of anything, then you're certainly better off than you should be! Any honest dwarf would just go and work harder for what they need!"

Deadly silence followed her speech. The fat dwarf pretended to ignore her, but looked redder than naturally. She glanced around sheepishly; her outburst was unexpected, even by herself, but all those repressed concerns about her boss, about her simpler-than-average lifestyle, about her poor upbringing caused a discomfort in her heart, which finally broke to the surface, despite her pretensions and efforts.

She clutched her hands together helplessly, as her eyes were burning with shame. She slowly, awkwardly backed away, still ignored by the old fat mine-leader, but watched by many. Although she couldn't make out the words, she heard that comments were made. She stood close to the door of Glóin's office, and shrugged off Alin's concern when she approached her with a sympathetic gesture.

She planned to sneak in and ask to be released. She didn't want a scandal. Unfortunately, when the current client finished, the old fat dwarf pushed his way to the door, ignoring any protestation.

"Atrocious!" he cried, "Never in my life have I been treated so atrociously! Let me in! I can't stay where I'm not welcome!"

So Kasia decided to step back, before she had to share the space with him. She could very well imagine how it would play out.

She was wringing her hands, counting the seconds. Glóin could demand her presence anytime now. She had half a mind to run off, but she doubted that she had any chance to get away without any reprimand. She wasn't a dwarfling anymore, and although her outburst was totally unprofessional, that didn't make her words untrue.

"Stop worrying," Kora whispered. "Glóin likes three things in life: his wife, his son and his money. I doubt he cares much for a mine-owner's wounded pride."

Kasia decided to shower him with compliments of his family, if it gained her his support.

* * *

"May I sleep with you tonight?"

Dwalin's hesitant question surprised Liv. That's how their meetings tended to end, so what's this uncertainty now?

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged, checking if they can sneak away. The fact that he was still making the effort to spend time with her despite his busy schedule appealed to her. "Where should we go?"

There was a momentary pause before Dwalin answered.

"Your place?"

That has finally thrown her off too, his hesitance suddenly making sense. They usually ended up somewhere in the mountain, maybe in an inn down in Dale, but never at her place, nor at his. Neither of them made a big deal of it, but… that just wasn't their way.

Liv considered backing out for a moment. She didn't like inviting people to her own little corner of the world. But Dwalin wasn't just any people, and while he'd probably understand if she said no, she didn't want to risk alienating him. The fortuneteller's words were echoing in her ears: _It doesn't say if you'll be with your love or you two steer apart._

She didn't want them to steer apart. They were good together, and she wanted him to see that too. She didn't want another proposal-fiasco, so she'd just let him set the pace.

"Fine." She squeezed out a faint smile to reassure him.

Having him in her room was strange. The Spring Travelers were lodged on a corridor, each dwarrowdam getting a small, sparsely furnished room. She kept it tidy and added little decoration. She blushed as he walked around, touching and inspecting everything. He looked so out of place here! She wondered what her room looked like through his eyes. The room screamed 'boring', and she hoped that he didn't hear it. That's why she never invited anyone: they'd judge, and then leave.

"Cozy," said Dwalin, finishing his inspection. His dark eyes bored into hers, giving her no clue about his real thoughts. "Let's get to bed," he said, and started to undress.

His nonchalance perplexed Liv, but she decided that she'd follow his lead. He let out a pleased growl when she curled up to him under the cover. He pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine," Liv said. He said he was tired, should she burden him with her nonsense? Her day was horrible, by the way – and he seemed to know that.

"Didn't the drunkards bother you?"

"I tried avoiding them." She wanted to forget about them. She hated them. That familiar scary itch was already crawling up on her spine just by the mention of drunkenness.

"Maybe you should do that for a few days. I have no idea when we'll have the water back."

"And let's pray that they'll stop drinking when that happens!" she replied sarcastically. Drunkards didn't choose ale because water was unavailable. They weren't likely to stop when they got it back. She started swatting his beard away: whenever he spoke, it tickled her face, and suddenly, she found it annoying.

"Let's do that," Dwalin agreed.

His beard was tickling her nose again.

"Mahal, Dwalin, can't you do something with this tangled mess you call beard?" she exclaimed, grabbing a fistful and yanking it.

"Mahal, woman, what's wrong with you?!"

"It's in the way."

"Never bothered you before!"

Well, it bothered her now, so she made him sit up, and started braiding it, sitting atop him. "My home, my rules," she announced smugly.

Dwalin made a few annoyed grunt, but didn't protest much.

"Tell me something to get my mind off of this chaos," he asked while she was working.

"I went to see a fortuneteller."

"That's… interesting," he answered neutrally, only the creases in the corners of his eyes hinting at irony. "Whyever I've never done that?"

"It's not a very manly thing to do," Liv chuckled, "but I can take you there one day if you're interested."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll take your word on it. Did she say something concerning me?"

That last question sounded strangely honest, as if his interest was piqued, after all. Liv studied his face, wondering if she should tell him everything, but she decided to only share what may sound as a harmless joke.

"Have you heard of an occurrence called 'evil eye'?" she whispered in his ears. Dwalin closed his eyes and wrapped his thick arms around her waist, sneakily getting under her nightgown. Liv, although enjoying their skin-on-skin contact, wouldn't let him distract her from her task, and went on to put his beard in two braids.

"Apparently, I'm cursed."

"That's not true," said Dwalin, trying to get her to work on another part of his body. " _I_ am cursed. With you," he said, kissing her cheek.

"I'm not a curse," she laughed, delighted by his obvious interest in her. No, she wouldn't let them steer apart. She wouldn't let anyone, not even a stupid, unreal curse stand between them. "I'm too good, which makes people jealous."

"Then shouldn't _I_ be cursed?" Dwalin argued. "For having you. If _you're_ cursed, maybe they think _I'm_ too good, and they cursed you so they can take your place." It felt like wonderful, meaningful kisses as his lips traced her neck while forming these words.

"No, I'm sure," she said. "You're not very good, always trying to distract me." She tried to get back to the braiding, but he was very insistent, and she laughed. "Mahal, Dwalin, is this what it would be like living with you?"

"Yes," he murmured the answer on her skin.

It felt like a lightning struck her. She tore herself away, so she could look him in the eye.

"Yes?"

Dwalin looked confused.

"Yes what?"

"Are you thinking about living with me?" she asked eagerly. Maybe she was wrong to be so insecure?

"Of course I think about that."

For a reason unknown to her, he thought that it was a sufficient answer, since he resumed his earlier actions.

"Wait, wait, what do you mean by that?"

Dwalin let out an annoyed grunt.

"Mahal, Liv what do you want from me? I had a shit day. I'm going to have some more shit days. I'm here now."

"But…"

Liv realized that she was too greedy again, instead of _letting him come to his own conclusions in his own time,_ as she planned, but it was too late now. Dwalin was finding refuge under the cover, his fresh braids slipping apart. _He must be angry now_ , she thought. She lied down next to him, but the anticipated retort didn't come: he offered her his arm as a pillow.

"Let's get some sleep. I'm tired."

"Fine. Sorry."

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't forget what you said, but…"

"It's not the right time, I get it. I don't mind." She tried reassuring him, but he wouldn't let her do the peacemaking alone. Most guys would just take her words as they were, but Dwalin always wanted to ensure that she was telling the truth, and unlike others, he never belittled her feelings.

"It's not you, it's me."

She focused on his warm hand on her belly (again, he found a way to get under her nightgown) instead of the familiar, cutting words, but Dwalin continued.

"We always dreamed about taking the mountain back. We were supposed to have an easy life here. But nothing is easy. Thorin got out, because for him, being king was just a job. Balin finally does what he'd always wanted to do. Me? I don't know what to do with luxury and gold. I can't find my place here. I don't want to change my lifestyle, because I happen to like it. I didn't want to change anything, but people keep pushing me to do that. Call Fíli King from now on, says Thorin. At last, we have the power to do things, says my brother. Find a good lass and get married, says Dís. I mean, what's the hurry? Why's everything I've been doing so far isn't good enough anymore? All I want is to enjoy what's here now, to be stuck in this moment with you forever. Why do I have to take more?"

His confession rendered her speechless. He was so good at making her talk, but she had a hard time getting anything out of him. Getting a glimpse of what was going on in his head finally gave her a direction, although she wasn't sure if this direction was leading them on the same path or two different ones.

She reached out and cupped his face.

"Then don't take more, it's fine" she said truthfully. "Let's sleep now."

He fell asleep very soon, but she didn't have the same good luck. She listened to the sounds coming from the corridor, and tried to control her own thoughts, but it was hard. She hated the silence of the night, but at least, Dwalin was snoring softly right next to her, and she could hold on to him.

She couldn't forget about the notion of the evil eye so easily. If even Dwalin struggled to feel at home here, maybe she shouldn't try so hard either, but if she couldn't fit in here, then where? Maybe someone was indeed cursing her. Maybe it was her late mother from her grave – she hoped not, because how do you fight dead people? Maybe someone who loved Dwalin; someone among the Spring Travelers, someone from his past…

An unexpected name broke through the aimless current of her thoughts.

 _Dís._

She quickly brushed off the idea. She'd just pretend as if she hadn't even thought of it. It wasn't possible.

Or was it?

 _No._

Someone knocked on her door, and she hurried to open it, grateful for any disturbance in the darkest hours. She greeted Reika with a smile; at least there was one dwarrowdam she got on with easily. She was looking for Dwalin, bringing troubling news. In a hushed conversation, she revealed that they couldn't go further up on the river, although she may have another solution.

"The river comes from the outside."

"And?"

Reika shrugged, an excited grin spreading on her face. "If the water can get in, so can I."

That sounded extremely stupid for someone who had a basic understanding of how water got through stone, and how people did the same. Stupid, or evasive: both Dwalin and Liv were staring at the cartographer suspiciously.

"I'm going with you," Dwalin stated. The lass shot him a weird glare, but there was gratitude in her eyes.

"You don't mind, do you?" Dwalin asked Liv, after the young dwarrowdam left.

Liv let out a sigh. "No. She doesn't have a healthy sense of danger, she'll need you. Just… come back, please."

Dwalin mumbled something, which she took as an agreement.

"If I'm going to pick up my bag now, can I come back to sleep here?"

Liv murmured a pleased yes.

As she waited for him in her bed, she let her mind wander again, fluttering between the evil-eye curse and the conversation with Reika. The name of the most powerful dwarrowdam in the Lonely Mountain came up again, and Liv couldn't help wondering if Dwalin or Reika would go out if Dís wasn't sick.

Dís had a huge influence on the dwarves of the Company. She wanted them to marry, and she pulled the strings behind the whole Spring Tour.

Liv wondered how attached Dís was to Dwalin. Maybe she could ask him, when he returns? By the time Dwalin returned with his bag and curled up behind her, she dismissed the idea. She didn't want to ruin what they had with thoughtless accusations.

 _Dís can't be jealous of me to the point of cursing me,_ Liv tried to convince herself, while Dwalin snored softly beside her. _Surely she wouldn't get sick on purpose!_ But then she remembered how many times Dís interrupted them in one way or another. _Maybe she's getting desperate?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the long wait. I guess weekly updates are not my thing. Thanks for the review, T.O.W.G!


	8. Don't Let Me Go

**Don't Let Me Go**

He was a little dwarfling, playing in the mud, trying to make a statue. Thorin got there somehow.

"What are you making, Dwarfling?"

Fíli jumped in fright when he heard the angry growl behind him, but kept working. The mud-statue forming under his hands started to look like Amad, which scared him, because he suddenly knew that…

"She won't come back from mud," sounded Thorin's timely snarky comment. "Dwarves shouldn't bother with filth. We are of stone, of precious metal and pure gems. She's gone and no dwarf can be born of mud. It's not the dwarven way!"

Fíli tried to stop, but his own hands didn't obey him. His mother can't be gone, he'd heard her heartbeat just a minute ago! His hands wouldn't stop working, and he saw an army of mud-statues in front of him.

"None of these is your mother, Dwarfling!" Thorin cackled, and Fíli suddenly noticed the familiar glistening coming from behind him, from Thorin…"And you forget that she's my sister, too."

His uncle stood there, completely covered in gold – or made of gold, Fíli couldn't decide – holding another lifeless golden figure in his arm.

"Stop hiding behind your mother's skirts," Thorin said smugly, as Fíli realized that the golden figure eerily resembled the ones he was making – except for one detail.

She was wearing trousers.

Fíli shook his head to clear away the remains of his nightmare. His mind had the bad habit of translating his feelings and fears into clear, torturous metaphors, and Thorin's gold-sickness was one of the recurring topics lately. Sometimes, the images caused him to bolt upright, gasping for air, other times, like now, the dream morphed into reality. He looked around, realizing that Thorin wasn't here, and he was in his mother's bedroom. Amad was still here, in the room, in the land of living. He found nothing that should have snapped him out of his dream, except for his own mind, which couldn't take more distress. He only now noticed the ragged sounds of his unruly breathing, and the rapid pace of his heartbeat. He made a few steps, but as the dizziness cleared from his head, his panic returned with full force.

He crouched back next to the bed and checked her condition. Nothing changed: she was still out cold, but Fíli took her hand in his, drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. She didn't show any sign of awareness, but the gesture comforted him at least.

The day passed slowly, but the evening was a lot busier. Suddenly, it seemed everyone wanted a part of her. Fíli resented them for being so eager to come now, when they used to care so little about her trivial problems and wishes. They acted as if they had a right to replace him on her side, as if her illness somehow diminished his loyalty to her and gave more power to those whose interest only lasted while necessary.

Dwalin arrived first. He stayed only for a moment, gently rubbing the top of her head. He also brought something helpful: half of his water ration for the day.

Thorin tried again to send Fíli to bed, reminding him of his royal duties, but also giving the impression that Fíli's exact person wasn't strictly needed outside. Unlike the previous night, Thorin gave up soon.

Balin made another attempt to do the same, explaining him at length that life won't stop just because he pretends it, and if he wouldn't rejoin the daily processes of his kingdom, the control will slip out of his hands without notice. During his lecture, his gaze fell on Dís, and his voice faltered. Seeing her so weak affected him so strongly that he quickly excused himself, trying to disguise his tearful eyes by rubbing them, citing fatigue.

Between these two visits, Óin examined her, confirming Fíli's opinion. The illness wouldn't pass without intervention. She was too weak to fight it off by herself. He also warned Fíli to watch out for other symptoms. Several dwarves came in with mildly itching red blotches on their skin, and less disciplined patients had already scratched them bloody before the healers could apply a neutral soothing salve, of which he'd saved a jar for Dís, just in case.

Glóin sent his good wishes with his wife, Tiril.

"He hears the word sickness, and he's already coming down with something lethal!" she explained. "Sometimes he's more of a child than our son!"

She also brought a light dinner, and promised to see them again in the morning. Fíli thanked her, but let out a relieved sigh after the overbearing dwarrowdam left.

Kíli didn't return.

Many more would have come – well-wishers and gossip-mongers alike – if not for Ronen's insistence to let only family members in. He guarded the door faithfully until his shift ended. His nighttime guard tried complying with Ronen's order, but lacked the good sense to make an acceptable exception for Amad's cartographer.

Hours passed since the last visitor, when Fíli heard a muffled argument from the other side of the door. He had no idea who won when someone opened the door.

"What's wrong?" he stood up.

"Nothing, Sir," said the guard, trying to shut back the door.

"I need to speak with you!" the cartographer exclaimed, before she let the guard win this match. She hoped that Fíli would be interested to hear about her progress, and she was right. Fíli invited her in. She pushed past the guard with a smirk, but when another guard wanted to follow her, Fíli shut the door in his face.

The lass let out a relieved breathe.

"Thank you. These guards are bothersome."

"Yes, they are," Fíli said. His voice sounded weak to his own ears; as weak as he felt, as he must look. (This should've tipped him off that it was her. Mahal save her from catching him once in a good moment!) He forced himself to focus on the conversation: he stood a little straighter, cleared his throat and ignored his mother's sleeping form. She deserved his full attention. "What happened?"

The dwarrowdam didn't meet his eyes: she was staring at Dís. Fíli couldn't see her facial expression, since her freely hanging hair covered it from this side. He wondered if she was hiding behind it intentionally. While he waited for her answer, a strange detail registered in his mind.

 _She's wearing trousers._

Just like the golden statue of Amad in his dream. He looked at her again, and felt a surge of unreasonable anger rising in his chest. This was her regular attire, and she didn't intend to remind him of anything, but suddenly, it all came crashing down.

There's nowhere to hide anymore.

There's no one to smooth his ruffled feathers, as they were ruffled by the absence of Amad's endless patience and love.

No one will support him, unless he wins them over. He's on even ground with others, who all have been fighting alone, while his back have been protected.

Originally, 'hiding behind his mother's skirt' may have been intended as good-natured chiding, but in this moment, the literal images that his mind had conjured up from the figurative turn of speech clashed with the reality, as this solitary dwarrowdam stood here as a picture of independence, power and freedom.

Fíli shook his head, trying to drive his thoughts back to the reason of her visit.

She didn't look very happy with her independence, power or freedom. Her posture lacked her usual cockiness. Her shoulders slumped as she hugged herself with her arms, as if she was cold, or afraid.

Was she afraid? Was she bringing bad news? Why wouldn't she speak?

"Why did you want to speak with me?" he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. She snapped her wide blue eyes at him, but in a second, she took control of her feelings.

"A wall of rocks is in our way, so we can't go looking for the poison from the inside until it's cleared."

Her words made him panic again, and her nonchalance infuriated him.

"Then what? We'll have to wait?! For days, for whoever knows how long?"

She shrugged, still hugging herself. "There's a way from outside."

"Good, then you should start there!" he said with unexpected vehemence. She tensed and turned away, and Fíli was now stuck between his agony to reconcile with the possible loss of his mother (for which the chances had just grown), and the shame for lashing out again.

"I will. I'm going up there, I just wanted to say goodbye to her."

"She won't die!" he growled.

"I know she won't," she said quietly. Fíli waited for her to continue, but all she did was to stand completely still and silently. Fíli narrowed his eyes. What did she want here? To be a disturbance and remind Fíli of his failure to do anything, with her impertinent nonchalance and entitled tone? The air grew heavier in the room as the silence grew unbearable. She seemed to sense it, because she finally spoke again. Had Fíli not been so focused on resenting her presence, he would have missed her faint whisper.

"My legs can't carry me there, my tongue can't give words to my voice."

"Then don't say anything."

In his mind, this day was a fast whirlwind of strong emotions, from pathetic grievances to unconditional devotion. These words would have fit both end of the scale, but for the first time since yesterday afternoon, he managed to synchronize his feelings with the situation perfectly, and conveyed exactly what he wanted – compassion. She wasn't here to judge him or laugh at him. She was here because she liked Dís: Fíli only needed to look at her in the right way, in the right moment to realize this.

"She'll be here when you come back," he reassured her.

"I don't know if I'll come back," she said, her voice cracking. Fíli made a step toward her, and took her stillness as encouragement. He took one of her hands in his, to place it on top of his mother's.

"You should," he said firmly. "She'll miss you."

"I don't know if I'll be able to."

She lost the battle against her emotions as one teardrop made its way down her nose. Fíli urged himself to comfort her, to tell her to stay a little, but she tore away and stomped out of the room, declaring herself 'not good with goodbyes!'

Well, Fíli didn't doubt that, seeing her temperamental answer to such a tender moment. He noticed a strange, stretching feeling on his face, and he patted it with his hand, hoping it wasn't one of the feared symptoms of the poison.

It wasn't.

It was a smile. He frowned, confused why it felt so strange, when he realized that it had been more than a day since the last time he smiled. Though wearing trousers, the cartographer offered him more comfort and encouragement than he dared to hope. She'll get to the bottom of this, that, he'd already known. She was clever and resourceful, focused and confident enough not to sway because others questioned her. Not that he'd do that, although he'd recommend her to come back before declaring that she's had enough of staying in one place, so she'll go on a new adventure.

He wondered where she'd go next. He had a horrible gut feeling as he listed off places in his head, and suddenly, her wish to say goodbye made an awful lot of sense in a very final way.

What exactly this way from the outside meant?

He jumped to his feet and started pacing, throwing glances at his mother. She wouldn't be very happy with him now.

No, that wasn't true. She'd be happy to have him here, but their relationship didn't work by sitting by each other's side, waiting for the stone turn to dust. They always acted swiftly, following their instincts and supporting each other on the way. Fíli threw in the rude, reckless force of his youth whenever people lacked the good sense to listen to niceties and reason and Dís maintained the peace with kindness where she saw fit, while clearing trouble away with cutting remarks.

He shouldn't be sitting here. She would be happy to have him here, true, but she'd be happier to have him back after he accomplished what he wanted.

Even so, what could he do? The cartographer kept things under control. She knew the mountain better than anyone, it seemed. Fíli was familiar with her work, as he'd seen her artful maps, but he rarely took time to study them, relying on her short descriptions and notes instead.

 _She'll know what to do, and you can help her do it,_ his mind supplied what Amad would have said. She always encouraged him to take charge, and Fíli liked power, he liked making the decisions. It had been a long time since anyone gave orders to him except for his closest kin, and following someone else's lead sounded strange. Still… he could do it. She may need his help. At least, he can ensure that she comes back, before going on a possible new adventure.

His mind now made up, he opened the door.

"Please, fetch Thorin to sit with my mother," he asked politely. Ronen would have argued against leaving his post, especially with the ongoing case of poisoning, but the night guard didn't voice such concerns.

Fíli waited there, satisfied with his plan. He'll finally do something, while throwing a bone to those who wanted to appease their conscious by fussing over Dís now. After a short while, a sleepy Thorin arrived to take over, and Fíli went to his chambers.

It took a mere minute to check everything: he had a fully packed bag, as usual, his long hunting coat was heavily loaded with daggers, and his sturdy boots were right where he left them after returning from his trip.

He only needed to ditch his guard, and he was ready to go.

"Hey, sorry to inconvenience you, but I think I've left my crown in my mother's rooms," he said, feigning innocence. He remembered dropping his royal jewels carelessly, and he remembered to leave them there as an excuse to send his guard away. Ronen wouldn't have fallen for this trick. Fíli was grateful for his absence now: the last thing he wanted to do now was to annoy the cartographer by dragging a guard on a journey to the top of the mountain, since most dwarves moved awkwardly overground. Probably she wanted to get rid of her own newly assigned protector too.

He listened to the sounds of the guard's steps, and then slipped out of his quarters. He pulled his hood over his head, and walked through the corridors with a quiet, but purposeful stride to draw as little attention as possible. Collecting his jewels must take a few minutes, and if luck was on his side, the guard wouldn't notice his absence immediately.

Fíli peeked over the corner. Her guard leaned against the wall near her door. He approached quietly at first, which alerted the other dwarf, so Fíli straightened his shoulders confidently, revealing his identity.

"Stand down, and say nothing of it."

The guard obeyed. Fíli wondered if Ronen was the only guard in this mountain with a mind of his own; although a few months before, he'd accused him of being too obedient too. _Good old times._

The lass wasn't very happy to have a visitor, if the force she used to open her door gave an indication of her mood. She swallowed visibly when she recognized Fíli. Fíli felt just as unsure: coming here seemed like a good idea, but if she refused to take him with her, then this whole mission would look like a fool's errand.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"It's really not a good time," she hurried to say, hugging herself again. "I have a lot of packing to do, and I really should focus on the journey, if you want me to succeed, and…"

"I'm going with you too."

His declaration caught her off guard, and he used this moment to push past her. Right now, he wanted to help her to save his mother, and she can be offended later, he'd take it.

He found himself in a spacious room, with functional arrangement and little decoration. Apparently, she found no reason to separate the hall, the kitchen, the dining room and the study. Kitchen tools lined one wall, with a fireplace in the corner. A large table with only a couple of chairs occupied the area in the middle, now covered by clothes, ropes, hammers, maps and foreign tools. She probably stored them in the chests that were now open and empty. He dropped his bag, and folded his coat, placing it on top of the bag next to the doorway, before looking at the bewildered dwarrowdam.

"So, when do we leave?"

She shook her head and made an exasperated gesture with her arms. She couldn't find the words, and she turned her back on him, without any comment, and continued to sort the items on the table into groups. Since she didn't kick him out, Fíli felt safe to approach her.

"Can I help?"

"Yes. No! I have no idea," she said, keeping her gaze firmly on the table. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm going with you," Fíli repeated. "I promise I'll be useful and I'll do what you say."

The dwarrowdam finally gave him a questioning look.

"You know it's true!" he defended himself. She didn't say no yet, but he never knew where he stood with her. "We work well together and I want to save Amad too."

She was hugging herself again.

"You shouldn't come. It's dangerous, and you're the king."

"I can take care of myself. I'll be fine."

"It's your choice. I won't stop you. Mahal knows, I'm happy to have someone there in case something goes wrong."

With this statement, she shrugged off the whole problem, and returned her attention to the items. Fíli hovered behind her, wanting to know more.

"So, how will we do it?"

"We leave in a couple of hours. There are clear paths on the lower slopes, so we can walk safely even in the darkness. I want to reach the steeper parts when the sun is already up, and then there's a crevice halfway to the summit, over a cave where the small streams coming from different cracks join together. That's where I'll start, it's large enough for me to climb down, I guess. The opening of the crevice is facing west, so we should get there by the afternoon. I hope the poison isn't very far down, because I'd like to climb back before darkness sets in again."

"Are you planning to go down alone?"

"Yes," she replied with a finality in her tone.

"And what should _we_ do there?"

"Wait for my return."

That part of the plan sounded stupid, and Fíli didn't hesitate to tell her so.

"Look, I didn't ask you to come with me!" she snapped up angrily. "That's exactly why I didn't ask anyone! You have no idea what's up there. I have some, and I know how to overcome the possible obstacles. You don't. I'll go down, and you'll be waiting upside."

Summed up like this, the whole plan sounded really stupid. Fíli wanted to act, not just sit around and wait, and what was it about not asking anyone?

"Were you planning to go out alone? Without any help? At all?"

"Yes."

"What about your team? The dwarves you work with on mapping the river?"

"They are nice, I suppose," she smiled, "but don't expect me to put my life into some random know-it-all's hands!" she finished smugly, giving Fíli the impression that she was looking forward to this trip. "I've gotten myself out of worse places. I've gotten _others_ out of worse places. You can build a pyre around me and I won't burn, unless Mahal decides that my time is up. I'll take this hammer," she took up a tiny, strange looking hammer, and gave it to him. "Can we put some stuff in your pack? Mine's heavy enough already."

This arrogance threw him off, and he obeyed without further argument. She kept passing him pieces to pack away, and he threw suspicious glances at her, but she didn't look bothered. Fíli wondered if she was simply reckless, but the meticulous way she packed suggested that she truly knew what to expect and how to prepare. He decided to give her the benefit of doubt, especially since she'd already proven her worth several times.

Still… the fact that she wanted to go alone didn't sit well with him.

 _Why?_

Instead of finding an answer for that question, he came up with another.

 _Why is she taking me?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, it seems I _can_ update weekly. Maybe because it's one of my favorite chapters - now they go on the obligatory trip outside :D Is she reckless? Does she really have a solution? Why is she taking Fíli? Review please!

to **Emrfangirl:** Believe me, Liv enjoys being in bed with Dwalin ;) Thanks for the review!


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